


The Violence of Coarser Souls

by DarkTidings



Series: Rooftop Souls AU [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Season/Series 01, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Apocalypse Fix-it, Discussion of Abortion, F/M, Gunshot Wounds, Medical Trauma, Past Child Abuse, Protective Merle Dixon, Protective Shane Walsh, Shane Walsh Lives, Sophia Peletier Lives, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:08:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 30
Words: 81,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24181849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkTidings/pseuds/DarkTidings
Summary: Some people's affability is more deadly than the violence of coarser souls. - Arthur Conan DoyleAU: Leaving a sick man behind makes some of the Atlanta Quarry group reassess their own prejudices, but it may be too late for them to salvage the situation with the Dixon family.  Shane's romance with widowed, single mother Ellie blooms after Rick's miraculous return, facing a clash of cultures and the permanent consequences of his liaison with Lori Grimes.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Glenn Rhee, Shane Walsh/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Rooftop Souls AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020486
Comments: 473
Kudos: 290





	1. Where's Merle

_Some people's affability is more deadly than the violence of coarser souls. - Arthur Conan Doyle_

** July 10, 2010 **

"Where's Merle?"

Shane stiffens, the tearful joy at the reunion with Rick gone like he had a bucket of ice water thrown over him. Rick detangles from Lori and Carl and turns, while the rest of the Atlanta group all but hide. Damned cowards, afraid of a woman with a baby.

"Well, ma'am, Merle was out of control. He was a danger to us all, drugged out of his mind," Rick starts.

Blue eyes are assessing as she shifts the baby's weight to the shoulder opposite of the one her long, auburn braid drapes over. "Is he dead?"

"Well, you see, we're not really sure," Rick begins.

"Seems like something you should be sure of before you leave someone behind, mister." She turns away from Rick, seeking out Glenn. Despite Merle's racist antagonism toward the young Asian, she's always been openly friendly towards Glenn even if she seems only tolerant of the others in camp. "Where?"

"Department store over by the courthouse," he answers, looking anxious. She nods and walks away, passing the baby to the teenager in the Dixons' little sub-camp. Sadie takes the infant, shifting her to one hip and following as she is given instructions.

"Is she planning on going into the city?" Rick asks incredulously.

"I think so," Shane says. She opens one of the saddlebags on the motorcycle and slips on a shoulder holster. She slides out a gun box and loads a magazine into the handgun before holstering it and sliding two more magazines into the holster.

"Ma'am, we can go back. You don't need to go alone." Rick's words only earn him a cool look as she tosses a couple of water bottles, some ration bars, and a first aid kit into a backpack that she drops into the passenger seat of the Subaru she drove into camp. She rummages into the back seat, hauling the infant seat out and dropping it into the bed of Daryl's beat-up old Ford. She pops the back hatch and two good-sized duffel bags follow the infant car seat before she drops the larger half of the back seat to lie flat.

"She's not going to talk to anyone right now. She's too angry." Shane looks to where Sadie approaches, the baby tucked into a carrier on her chest and a diaper bag over one shoulder. "Guess you could say she’s practicing the Golden Rule. We're supposed to stay with you, Deputy Walsh, til either her or Uncle Daryl gets back."

That baffles Shane a bit. "Why not one of the ladies?"

Sadie laughs in that derisive way of teenagers towards particularly dense adults. "She knows they all think we're trash. Carol doesn't, but Ed's a pervert. You're a cop so you don't have to like us to be polite to me and Merry." She shrugs. The baby waves a chubby hand at Shane, showing her bare gums as she grins and babbles at him. 

"You'd best shut your mouth about your betters, girl." Ed advances on the girl.

Before Shane could intervene, he hears the distinct firing twang of a crossbow as a bolt embeds in the dirt near Ed's feet. The man yelps and falls backward as Ellie stomps her way up and snatches the bolt. She shakes it at Ed. 

"You will keep your words and eyes to yourself. The rest of these folks may be content to let a piece of wife-beating shit like you have free reign, but you've been warned about keeping your pedophile eyes to yourself where Sadie is concerned. That doesn't change just because Merle isn't here. He'd at least kill you quickly, like he informed you he would if he caught you laying hands in any more children in camp four days ago. Me, I'll feed you your balls in strips." 

She flicks the bolt tip against Ed's cheek before slotting it back in the holder on the crossbow.

"If Ed's messing with the kids, someone should have let me know," Shane protests. He overlooks Carol's bruises, afraid the man would take his family back out where they'd lack even the nominal protection of the group. But he'd seen no indication of aggressive behavior towards Sophia.

"Pervert grabbed Sadie the other day. Claimed he was just directing her back toward our camp, but he left bruises on her arm. Wasn't the first time he'd been caught eyeing her. Didn't figure you'd be allowed to listen to me if I complained."

Shane frowns. "Allowed?"

Ellie scoffs. "Like every damn one of these women haven't tried to get you to put us on our way. I don't have time for this now. Just keep him away from them. I gotta go get Merle's dumb ass."

T-Dog squirmed uneasily. "He's handcuffed, Mrs. Dixon, up on the roof. I dropped the key, so I couldn't get him loose. I chained the door so nothing could get inside, but I don't have a key to that lock."

She pats a pocket on the leather vest she wore over the shoulder holster. "Had a cop teach me how to pick cuffs years ago with the right tools. Was the padlock a combo or key lock on the chain?"

"Key. Big Master Lock, I think." She nods, seeming unconcerned.

"You shouldn't go alone."

Ellie meets Rick's gaze. "Not sure there's anyone here I'd trust at my back, all things considered. Better to rely on myself." She turns to Shane. "I'll do my best to be back by nightfall, with or without Merle. Keep an eye on my girls."

Shane knows he ought to argue her going like Rick, or even offer to go with her, but he holds back for the same reason everyone else in camp does. Ellie Dixon might be more polite than her male family members, but everyone who tried to butt heads with her stubbornness lost.

"I'll keep an eye out." He is puzzled why she trusts him over, say, Dale, but maybe she just sees the older man as being too old. With Rick back, it isn't like he has to deal with Lori's irrationally strong dislike of all things Dixon.

She meets his gaze evenly. She finds whatever she is looking for, since she nods and strides off to slide into the driver's seat of the Subaru.

"Oh God, I'm going to regret this," Glenn groans, before dashing off to tap the glass on the driver's side before she can take off. She stares at him for a moment, then jerks her head toward the passenger seat. He snags the backpack out of the seat and drops into it, barely getting the door shut before she is on her way.

"Is that wise? Merle was pretty violently racist up there today," Rick asks.

"Ellie likes Glenn. She'd feed Merle his nuts if he messed with Glenn." Sadie smirks at the adults when they turn disbelieving gazes to her. 

The baby squawks and grabs onto Shane's sleeve, looking accomplished at her capture of the deputy. He can't help laughing at the little girl, which apparently signals Sadie to lever her out and plop her into his arms. He grips the baby reflexively, and she lets loose with a delighted baby giggle, patting his chest firmly with the hand not tangled in his shirt.

Sadie sidesteps to keep Shane between her and Ed as the big man makes as if to approach. 

"Think it's best you go back down to your tent," Shane orders, leveling his best cop glare at the man. Everything about Sadie's body language confirms what Ellie said. She is afraid of the man, and not much seems to shake the irrepressible teenager.

"Ain't going to be slandered and threatened by no white trash," Ed grumbles.

Shane knows Rick also noticed the girl's apprehension, because he maneuvers between Ed and Shane. "Be best if you wait for the adults to have that conversation."

Ed's searching look around the others finds him no sympathy, so he storms off, cursing. 

Sadie lets out an audible sigh of relief, actually leaning up against Shane for a brief moment.

"Can I see where he yanked on your arm?" he asks. She nods and tugs off the open button-up shirt she wears over an Ironman t-shirt. The hand shaped bruise is a lurid purple, starting to edge yellowy green along the edges as it heals.

"He said I was giving Sophia uppity ideas and I'd best stop or I'd be sorry." She lifts her chin stubbornly. "All I was doing was telling her it ain't right, how her daddy is. I don't know if he was serious or not, but when Merle made him let me go, telling him no real man hurts kids, he made a rude comment like the pervert he is, and Merle punched him in the nuts so hard I'm surprised he didn't cough them up."

"What did he say?" Rick is using his trust-me voice, but Sadie never turns his way, brown eyes focusing on Shane.

"Old enough to bleed... He didn't get to finish it, cos that's when Merle hit him. Told him he'd kill him if he looked at any of us kids again, including Sophia."

Carol makes a strangled sound, clutching her daughter close.

Dale's voice is gentle. "Why didn't anyone tell Shane about it?"

Sadie shrugs, tugging her overshirt back on. "Wasn't like he was going to throw Ed out, cos he'd take Sophia and her mama away too and they'd have no one to keep them safe. His hands are tied."

Shane is actually surprised that any of the Dixons assessed the situation positively where he is concerned. Ellie is politely reserved in any interactions, Daryl rude and remote, and Merle borders on outright antagonism on his best days. Sadie interacts only with the kids, aside from limited replies to any direct question from an adult.

"Carol?" Shane speaks softly, realizing the grey haired woman is weeping softly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think he was hurting anyone else," she sobs. Jacqui wraps her arms around the woman and her daughter, looking distressed.

"We'll figure something out," Dale assures her. All the men wear equally guilty expressions as they exchange looks. 

Sadie leaves the shelter of being next to Shane to throw her skinny arms around both Carol and Sophia, working her way around Jacqui. "It's okay, but you gotta let them fix things now." It seems to soothe Carol somehow.

The baby breaks the tension by dipping her head forward to gnaw on Shane's collarbone, laughing when he yelps in surprise. The peal of baby giggles makes most smile reluctantly.

Sadie snickers. "Least it wasn't your nose. She licked Merle's eye the other day. His _eyeball_. It was so gross. Hilarious but _gross_."

Merry responds by wagging her tongue at everyone, eyes slightly crossed as if she is trying to see her tongue. She gives it up and snatches for Shane's necklace, making a valiant attempt at stuffing it in her tiny mouth before he gently retrieves it. She blows a raspberry and then settles for chewing on the collar of his shirt. 

"I can take her," Lori offers, surprising Shane. She firmly abhors anything Dixon, including the baby, making rude remarks about how people like that shouldn't be having children.

He starts to pass the baby over, figuring she'll be happier with a female, but Merry's expression turns thunderous and she bucks away from the slender woman. She buries her face in Shane's chest, body stiff until he adjusts his hold to reassure her he isn't handing her off.

The baby's antics seem to disburse the remainder of the open guilt over the Ed situation. "Looks like I've got a buddy for a bit."

Rick's gaze goes to the teenager still part of the group hug. "I'm sorry about your father," he begins, but he has about as much success finishing a sentence with this Dixon as the other.

Sadie's head pops up and she frowns at Rick. "Merle's not my father."

"I'm sorry. That's what the others told me." He frowns towards the group who went to Atlanta. 

"Then what is he?" Dale asks kindly. "Your stepfather?"

They all debated the relationship of the Dixons, noting Sadie's general features aren't the same and she was the only one who doesn't have blue eyes. But Merle's regular oversight of the girl seemed to indicate a paternal role. None of them seem to use any family titles, other than Sadie calling Daryl uncle.

"Merle's never been married." Sadie frowns. "Why would you think he's my stepfather?"

"Isn't Ellie your mother?" Lori asks.

"She's my sister-in-law." The teenager looks genuinely puzzled. "I came to live with her two years ago when my mama died of cancer."

"But we thought Ellie was married to Merle," Dale explains. It was the conclusion they drew despite the age difference, based on the wedding set Ellie wears and her willingness to boss Merle around fearlessly and Merle actually complying about half the time.

"Oh God, that's disgusting. This ain't _Alabama_. Merle's Ellie's _dad_." She emphasizes dad as if they are all severely mentally impaired. "Ellie was married to my brother til he died last August. Although I guess Ellie is technically my mother. She legally adopted me after Isaac died so that if anything happened to her, I wouldn't be separated from Merry and Merle and Daryl."

Shane can't help the reflexive hug he gives the baby as he realizes she lost her father before she was ever even born. At least he had a father for long enough to remember him.

"We should have asked, not assumed," Dale notes. 

"Not really me you've been offensive to, and at least most of you were polite enough to let us be out of earshot before you were rude, not like those two." She tilts her chin toward Andrea and Lori, both of whom look offended. "Don't look so huffy. Y'all act like Ellie's deaf or something, all high and mighty, when she's probably smarter and more educated than both of you put together on your best day."

"I don't see how," Andrea begins. "I was an attorney before."

"That's just a fancy master's degree, right? Ellie has her master's plus extra. It's really funny cos y'all are always so rude to the only person here with medical training."

Curious, Shane musters for his most polite tone. "She a doctor?" He can't wrap his mind around Merle Dixon fathering a doctor, but there are dead up and walking, so damn near nothing is impossible, it seems.

"No, she got her master's in nursing from Emory. You know, the one where you can work without a doctor always around, more or less. She worked at Children's. But she was on maternity leave when everybody started getting sick."

Shane hadn't questioned too closely, not really wanting to tangle with Merle any more closely than he had to. The other Dixons made it easy by not seeming to interact with the others much at all. He knows Merle made supply runs specifically for their smaller camp, which is why he caved and asked him along as firepower for the bigger run. 

Ellie being on maternity leave still confirms the camp guesses that the baby was two, maybe three, months old when they arrived.

Merry turns a little less happy, making that grumpy face that Shane remembers Carl making whenever he was hungry at this age.

“Hey, Sadie. Got any nibbles for the baby in the bag?”

Once Merry’s settled, him serving as her high chair while Sadie scoops peas into her mouth, he can’t help but glance toward the road.

What kind of cop does it make him that he watched Merry’s mother leave with only Glenn for protection?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of three beginnings I wrote when I began the Homestead Georgia series. The canon timeline diverges as of the rooftop scene and goes wildly freeform from here. There is an incident late in the story that doesn't show Rick in the best of lights, but he's not a villain of the story, just a man dealing with a lot of angst and confusion.
> 
> It runs almost exclusively as a Shane POV, with two chapters in Ellie Dixon's POV. Primary Pairing is Shane/Ellie. The Daryl/Glenn pairing was intended to be a background pairing for the story, but so many people wanted to see the romance that they will be getting their own sequel - it is SLOW BURN for this one, appearing at the end as the beginning of a matchmaking plot by one of the ladies of the community. Merle/Jacqui will feature in a third story for the series. At some point, a Carol/Morgan pairing will appear as a background romance to the others.
> 
> When I started this fic, discussions with another Shane fan reminded me how precious few fics there are that are pro-Shane. She posed a Toni Morrison quote that fits this niche of TWD fanfic well: "If there's a book that you want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it."
> 
> Final note, Sadie makes a bit of a jackass comment regarding Alabama, so if you're from there, forgive her. If you aren't from the South, it's really common humor for Southerners, faced with some implication of incestuous behavior, to state it's not their home state that's guilty, but some neighboring state. Where I'm from, we usually use Tennessee, but that's because it's one of the few Southern states where it's actually legal to marry one's first cousin. o.O


	2. A Different Picture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane gets drawn in as a nursing assistant along with Glenn as Ellie works to save Merle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next RBM chapter is being obstinate and may not be finished until tonight, so I figured I'll lob a chapter of this one out from the pre-written pile to tide y'all over. :)

** July 10, 2010 **

Shane isn't the only one watching the road into the quarry with wary eyes when the sound of a car approaching is heard. Dusk is upon them, so he can't get a clear view into the car, so he stands ready until he can identify Glenn as the driver. Glenn pops the back hatch and jogs to join Ellie, who slides out of the cargo area to join Glenn in maneuvering Merle's large form upright. 

Their slighter forms sway under the semi-conscious man, who appears to be attempting to help, but not succeeding. Ellie is hampered by the fact that she is also carrying the saline bag of the IV already hooked into Merle's arm.

"Oh, hell." Shane stands, abruptly passing off the baby to Sadie. He signals for T-Dog to follow and they take over, while Glenn takes the IV bag. Ellie rushes ahead to drag a camp cot out of the tent into the cooler open air. 

They've just gotten Merle situated onto the cot with Shane left holding the IV bag when Glenn runs back to the car for a duffle bag full of medical supplies. From the looks of the medical kit, they raided an ambulance or fire station's paramedic supplies.

"Glenn, grab that big jug of water and towel. Just start sopping him while I get something to hang the IV bag on." Shane steps back while she dumps the clothing drying on the Dixons' makeshift rack onto a camp chair and brings it to hang the bag on. The exertion of the move from car to cot seems to have exhausted Merle's awareness of the world.

Ellie moves with practiced efficiency, sorting supplies. T-Dog backed off, despite obvious curiosity, unwilling to be close to Merle any longer than he has to. 

Shane apparently lingers a moment too long, because he finds himself conscripted along with Glenn as she makes them assist her in stripping Merle out of his soaking wet clothes down to his boxers, cutting the shirt and leather vest free to avoid the IV line. 

He meets the younger man's horrified look at the scarring on Merle's torso. The scars are mostly ancient, but Shane doesn't think he's ever seen anyone who survived so much obvious abuse.

She grimaces at herself, glancing down at the gore that spatters her cargo pants and T-shirt. "I'll be right back." She grabs a pair of pants, a vest, and a top off the laundry pile and steps behind the tent. Shane debates if it is cowardly to follow T-Dog back to the core group, leaving Glenn to his uncomfortable task of soaking Merle's bare skin. 

He winces as he notes the sunburn on Merle’s arms, shoulders, and face. A forehead thermometer strip stuck to Merle’s forehead has the 104 box highlighted, reminding Shane of when fellow football players developed heatstroke in school. When he sees Sadie starting to approach, he shakes his head, waving her back. 

Carol is staying in the RV at Dale's urging, and the grey-haired woman immediately steps forward to keep Sadie and the baby away.

Ellie stops by a rinse bin, scrubbing her skin almost raw. She douses herself with disinfectant and dons gloves before checking the placement of the IV in Merle's right arm. The deft efficiency she uses gives evidence to Sadie's claim she is a nurse. Once she has the IV inspected to her satisfaction, she halts Glenn's cooling efforts. 

“Grab the ice packs we left in the car, sweetie, then the oxygen equipment." The Korean jumps up and dashes to the open hatchback, retrieving several medical grade ice packs. Shane winces when they are packed at Merle's neck, armpits, and groin. The man jerks groggily in reaction to the ice, but doesn't rouse. Glenn returns a second time lugging an oxygen tank, passing Ellie the nasal cannula to slip into place.

"I'm going to draw blood and you boys may want to turn around a moment for the next part." Ellie meets Shane's gaze as she rips open a foley kit. Oh hell yeah, he is turning around. 

Glenn flushes and does the same, so they both find themselves staring at the overly interested audience from their camp, until Ellie gives permission for them to turn back around. She has draped a towel over Merle's groin, giving the man a measure of privacy.

"What can I do to help?" Shane isn't entirely sure of why he is offering, other than a combination of law enforcement training to help those in need and the uneasy feeling that the woman trusts him most out of the camp, so he needs to live up to that.

She sighs, looking at the readings on a small scanner. "Well, since I know you don't have an ICU in your pocket, I'll settle for help stitching up his wrist if Glenn can tolerate sponging still. Alternate with fanning him now that you don't have the air circulation from the car windows.” 

Glenn nods at the aside to him before Ellie continues. “Some of the other steps I'd take in an ER for his temperature just aren't safe here, but at least his blood and urine results aren't completely shot to hell. I shouldn't be doing this without a lot more equipment than we skimmed out of the ambulance and clinic on the way back."

Glenn returns to his task, and Shane kneels by the cot, facing Ellie across Merle's prone form. She gently positions the eldest Dixon's bandage-wrapped right wrist on his abdomen and begins removing the bandages, which are already soaking with blood. Shane shudders, noting that Glenn keeps his eyes averted. The man has torn the flesh severely fighting the handcuff.

He has no fondness for Merle, but damned if the thought of how desperate he was isn't horrifying. Ellie changes her gloves after opening a suture kit. She offers him a set too, which he dons gratefully, then lets her guide him in how to best hold Merle's wrist.

"I've never seen handcuffs do this," Shane says softly, indicating the deep cut among the abrasions he is more familiar with.

She flicks her eyes up to meet his gaze before returning to making tiny injections of lidocaine. "Hacksaw." Glenn makes a distressed sound that Shane kind of wishes he could echo. Ellie merely bites her lip and begins the process of irrigating and stitching up the cut, getting in three stitches before she speaks again. 

"I'm going to have nightmares for weeks that Glenn and I didn't arrive as fast as we did."

Glenn nods. "The door was chained, but one of the geeks had its head stuffed through the gap. It was a miracle they were all adult sized and not smart enough to turn their shoulders to squeeze through."

"How did y'all get up there then?" Shane asks, puzzled. 

"Climbed a drainpipe on the side of the building the dead weren't clustered up on. Glenn and I are a little more athletic than the rest of that group you sent are." Ellie states it matter-of-factly, beginning the row of exterior stitches to close the wound. "Door's still chained, actually. Merle was still mobile enough to get him down the drainpipe at that point."

Merle rouses enough to pull against Shane's hold, mumbling out something that to Shane is unintelligible, but makes Ellie lean between Merle and Glenn to press her forehead to her father's. Her voice is husky in reply, just a reassurance that she is there and loves him. He replies in a similarly garbled manner and she kisses his cheek. 

"I know, no painkillers," she says softly before sitting back up to continue her stitches.

She meets Shane's questioning gaze. "Until today, he'd been sober for ten years, and even that relapse was minimal. But he avoids taking risks." She sighs, tying off the last stitch, and applying a bandage before putting away the unused supplies. "Usually." 

Shane isn't sure what to say to that, and Glenn seems equally mute.

It leaves Ellie to bring out an ear thermometer to double check the temperature displayed on the forehead strip. "We're down a degree. Get it one more and then it's just combating the dehydration and detoxing whatever he took." She replaces the thermometer in the bag and brings out a urine cup. 

"I'm guessing you know what this is, deputy? We raided what was left of one of those clinics that does the worker's comp paperwork so I could get the iStat to check his blood."

Shane nods, recognizing the drug test cup. Part of him is surprised she's willing, but then again, from a medical standpoint, she probably needs the confirmation to treat him properly.

”Same brand our department uses, actually." She unscrews the cap and drops down to fiddle with the catheter's urine collection bag, sealing the cup and wiping it down with an antiseptic wipe. She plops it on the cot between Merle's knees while she strips off her gloves and accepts Shane's gloves from him before waving a hand toward Sadie to return to the Dixon camp.

"I can take over, Glenn. You've gone above and beyond today, and I thank you." 

The Korean blushes, but hands off the wet towel with a grateful smile. 

"Come over in the morning and we can sort through the supplies we got from the clinic and ambulance to put together some good kits for the camp, and I'll give you the first aid rundown like you asked."

Shane rises when the others do, letting Glenn leave and Sadie arrive as he decides to get a good overview. "If you need an extra set of hands, just ask. I know you aren't comfortable with a lot of folks in camp, but we'll help where we can."

Ellie accepts her daughter and nuzzles the drowsy baby's silky hair. Sadie pulls a camp chair over and takes up Glenn's cooling off task without being asked. "For now, it's a waiting game. I'll be testing his blood and urine probably most of the night, even if he becomes more coherent.”

She sighs, her expression troubled as she looks at Merle. Shane’s never seen the man so still, ever. 

“The fact that he was mostly alert when we got to the roof is a good sign. I was able to get him to drink some of the water I brought, and I've got Pedialyte powder to add to the water. Biggest need I may have until Daryl's back is I'll probably need water first thing in the morning."

"I'll stop by when I do the water run then and get your containers too." He hasn't had to do water service for the Dixons, who collected and sanitized their own. "I can have Carol bring some breakfast over too. I know y'all usually look after yourselves on that. Carol's staying in the RV with Sophia now. I'm sorry I let Ed get so out of control."

"Wasn't just you at fault there. We all played our part in not putting a foot in his ass. Hopefully Carol will stick to her guns and keep her girl safe." She reaches down with her free hand to pick up the drug test and arches a brow. "Well, isn't that just mighty interesting."

Shane takes the cup when it is offered, grimacing at the fact it still contains the urine necessary for the test. "Huh. All negative. Rick said he found a white powder in Merle's vest pocket, assumed it was cocaine based on Merle's behavior. He threw it off the rooftop."

"Jesus Christ," Ellie swears softly. She strides to the tent, gently laying the now mostly asleep child in the playpen that can be seen through the mesh, and grabbing a bag and bringing it out to sit at the foot of Merle's cot. As she rummages inside, he could tell it was a first aid kit only a step or so downward from the EMS one she bought from the city. 

She pulls out a jar with a prescription label, turning it so that Shane can read Merle's name and the instructions to take one teaspoon 3-4 times per day with water or juice. 

When she unscrews the lid briefly, Shane's stomach churns a bit. The color is close enough to cocaine that in a high-stress situation, certain assumptions would be easy to make. 

"It's his cholesterol medication." Her voice drops an octave, a note of anguish bleeding through. "You ever seen a heatstroke before?"

He nods, the puzzle pieces all shuffling together in an entirely different picture. The guy who had heatstroke bad enough to go to the hospital during summer practice his junior year of college was screaming belligerently at the other players and even the coach before he finally collapsed. 

The churning in his stomach grows, because it is becoming more and more likely that Merle's episode on the roof was heat induced, and they assumed the worst because no one really likes the man. 

She drops the jar of medication onto the cot, and he lets his fingers go lax when she tugs the negative drug test from him. Ellie steps away to toss the contents into the treeline, bringing it back and wiping it down with another antiseptic wipe. She reopens the jar of medication and dumps a half scoop into the empty drug test cup and gives it back to him after replacing both lids. 

"Do me a favor and show the others what a man's life is worth around here. Merle's an asshole in some of the most irritating ways, but so's half the camp. They wouldn't have left Andrea behind, and she's just as offensive, just with prettier language."

Shane isn't sure how to reply to it, since he's guilty of similar assumptions about the Dixons. Hell, he gave the order that the stranded group was on their own. Perhaps it is different since his personal like or dislike of those in Atlanta weren't factored in, just the fact that he already sent most of their able people into Atlanta. Sending a rescue mission meant leaving the vulnerable unprotected. 

He doesn't feel he has enough moral high ground to ponder it tonight. He settles for repeating his offer. "If you need anything..."

"I'll be sure to ask." She turns away to tidy away the trash from her administering aid to Merle, pausing to rub her hand gently across her father's buzz cut.

He makes it halfway to the big fire pit everyone is now gathered around when she calls out, "Deputy Walsh?"

"Yeah?" he turns, wondering what she needs so quickly.

"I'd appreciate it if you had Merle's guns returned to me. Glenn didn't want to say who had them, but they weren't left behind. The Winchester rifle and the Browning pistol."

He nods. "I'll find out what happened to them." She turns away, her vest shifting enough to remind him she is still wearing her shoulder holster and gun. He supposed if he was her, he wouldn't feel safe being unarmed either. 

He just hopes she is as competent with the Glock as her comfort level in handling the gun earlier indicates. He has the odd feeling if he questioned her carrying with Merle sick and Daryl gone, she'll likely use him as target practice to prove her marksmanship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coarser Souls was actually begun before RBM, so this chapter is responsible for the realization that I could logically retain a high standard of medical care in the ZA. 
> 
> In RBM, Merle's treatment for heatstroke took place out of sight, but this is how it would be handled with makeshift medical care and no ER and ICU. Glenn will add another tidbit or two about the medical from his time as a conscripted substitute EMT in the next chapter.
> 
> The cholesterol medication in the chapter is cholestyramine, which is a powder that varies in color somewhat from ivory to white.


	3. So We're Thieves Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The quarry group makes a decision that will fracture relationships with the Dixons even further.

**July 10, 2010**

By the time he makes it to where the others are gathered around the fire pit, he knows they overheard the exchange about the guns at least, and most of the expressions are not promising.

"You can't give Merle Dixon back those guns," Andrea starts in.

"So we're thieves now? We don't like them so we can take their things?" Glenn asks, startling everyone into looking where he's taken a seat and is staring at his feet. He looks up, and Shane is startled to see that the young man looks near tears. 

Then again, he had the up close and personal of the consequences to the Atlanta run in a way even Shane helping Ellie doesn't fit. He went back to that roof. And he doesn't even know everything Shane now knows. 

"He's dangerous." Andrea again. The others from the Atlanta run nod in agreement.

"So's Ed, and no one's taken his gun," Glenn says, squaring his shoulders. "And you held a gun on Rick today you didn't even know how to use properly."

Lori gasps in outrage, glaring at the blonde.

"It gets a bit worse," Shane interjects, turning the drug test cup in his hand uneasily. He holds it up for Rick to see. "Powder in this cup look familiar?"

Rick nods. "Looks similar to what Merle had in his pocket today."

Shane tosses the cup at his partner, watching the wheels turn in Rick's brain as he rotates to read all the negative results. "Glenn and I were both right there when she took the sample from the catheter bag. Powder inside is cholestyramine."

"Cholesterol medication?" Dale asks. Shane nods and the older man sighs softly when everyone looks to him. "I have the same, but mine's in individual packets. It's easier than the big jar when travelling."

"So what the hell set him off if it wasn't drugs?" T-Dog asks. "He's always been a racist asshole, but today was nightmare proportions."

"Ever seen someone going down with heatstroke?" Shane waits for T-Dog, who he knows played college ball like Shane did, to start making the connections. No one makes it to the college level of play without seeing at least a half dozen teammates at least hit the early stages of trouble with the heat.

"Oh, shit." The big man rubs at his chest, frowning when everyone stares at him. "Most people, heat gets to them, they pass out before they get wild with it," he explains. "But sometimes, it's like your brain cooks and every crazy bit of shit that ever floated through it comes out."

"And we left him up there to keep cooking," Glenn says softly, almost inaudible. "I came over here and Shane came over here and you worry about the guns and not whether or not he's _going to die_."

"How is he?" Rick asks, looking guilty for not asking about Merle's situation.

Shane sinks into a seat, rubbing the back of his head. "She thinks his temperature is coming down like it should. Looks like she has enough saline bags to keep him hydrated. Said she had some Pedialyte powder for the baby she could put in his water. She's going to be testing his blood and urine all night from what she said, til everything levels back out. She and Glenn brought back enough kit for a small emergency clinic, I think." 

He isn't sharing the part about the stitches, and a glance to Glenn confirms the younger man doesn't seem intent on sharing extra either. "Told her we'd restock her water in the morning and someone would carry over breakfast for her and the girls."

"Just in time to lose our only medical person," Glenn says. "It would have been faster to just get what she needed for Merle, but she had me raiding the medical shelves for things way beyond that at the little in-house pharmacy in the clinic we got into, because all she needed was that stuff she's using for testing.”

“I saw the bag she already had,” Shane notes. "Full on medical kit with antibiotics and so on."

Glenn shrugs. “Apparently, she'd ordered some kind of special prescription only kit before everything went down, so she already had antibiotics and stuff. We got the rest when we cleared out everything that wasn't nailed down in an ambulance and the stock closet in the EMS station. I'm supposed to go over in the morning to help her make up kits for us and go through some of the Red Cross lessons in the manual she grabbed for me."

"You really think they'd leave the safety of a big group when they've got that baby?" T-Dog asks. He looks genuinely distressed by the idea, but T-Dog’s got a soft spot for kids based on his interactions with Carl, Sophia, and the Morales kids.

"Guess you have to ask if she feels our definition of safety is actually safe for her family." Shane nods his head toward the Dixon camp, where Ellie sits with her eyes closed, Merle's hand held to one cheek and her fingers along his pulse. She's removed her vest, and her light colored T-shirt contrasts with the dark color of her shoulder harness and gun. "She's never gone armed in camp, not like that."

"Did she actually shoot anything when you were in Atlanta?" Rick asks Glenn.

"Yeah. She covered me while I got Merle loaded up in the back of the station wagon. From what I could see when we drove off, she dropped one for every shot. Said she didn't want to lose her bolts when we were leaving the area anyway, so the noise didn't matter."

"How'd it all go in Atlanta?" Shane asks, figuring everyone is probably as curious as he is.

Glenn studies his feet again for a minute. "We set off some car alarms a few blocks east of where Merle was to draw off as many geeks as we could. We could still see enough from the other side of the causeway to know we couldn't in the building. Could hear Merle too." 

The Korean shivers, rubbing at his arms. "We snuck the car over by that big drain pipe and she went up the side of the building like some kind of acrobat. Got him quiet enough and down the building, but we got noticed while we were almost to the car. That's when she covered while I got him in the car. The rest was pretty simple. Stopped and raided an ambulance for a bunch of gear and then a community clinic she knew of near here. That reminds me."

He stands and fumbles in his pocket, tossing T-Dog a bottle of pills. "Ibuprofen. There's some stronger stuff I grabbed that's in the car still, but you'd need her to tell you what's safe to take if you need it. But there's some ice packs if you need them. We found a whole case of them at the clinic, like fifty in the box, and I stuffed the whole thing in the car. And we left it secure enough I can probably get back for the meds and supplies we had to leave because she didn't want us stuck in the city after dark."

"This'll do me just fine," T-Dog says, opening the bottle and shaking out a few tablets to take with his water. "Might take you up on the ice packs closer to bedtime, if they're spare."

Glenn glances over where Ellie and Sadie stopped the water bath and draped a light sheet over Merle. "Looks like she got his temp down where she wanted, since she stopped all the cooling stuff. She said you stop at 102 because you can overdo it. His temp was 105 when we got up on the roof. He had a seizure in the car. That was some scary shit to be driving through."

Not everyone looks guilty, but ironically, the person with the most to resent from Merle in Atlanta is the one who looks the most horrified. T-Dog turns the bottle of ibuprofen around in his hands, letting the tablets tick softly inside. "You really think they're gonna leave?" he asks Glenn, repeating the question from earlier. "She say so?"

"Yeah. She said soon as Daryl was back, she was done, that Merle could just keep recovering in the car. Offered to share the medical supplies since I helped her on the run." He looks to Shane, expression earnest. "You going to give back the guns?"

Shane sighs, because he thinks this is going to be one hell of an ugly situation if they don't. "I don't personally have them, Glenn, but I'd vote for returning them, especially if they're leaving." He looks to Rick, who shrugs.

"I've got the Browning. Would prefer we had more firepower here, especially when I dropped a bag of guns from the station in the city we might not be able get back."

Protests are raised and Shane watches Glenn closely as he studies each person and absorbs their argument. Something is up with the younger man. In the end, if it were put to a vote of those willing to speak up, it is decidedly against returning Merle's guns. 

"I can't believe you people." The Korean stands slowly, as if every muscle he has hurts, and walks away to the Dixon camp, ignoring calls for him to return. 

Ellie watches him approach, firelight lighting up her features. Glenn says something inaudible with his back turned the way it is, and she shakes her head, replying too quietly for her voice to carry and squeezes his hand in reassurance. Then she jerks her head toward the station wagon. He goes to the rear passenger seat and shifts some supplies around before dragging something large and heavy out of the car.

Rick stiffens in recognition as Glenn approaches with the heavy bag, letting it slide to the ground with a thump next to Rick's chair. "It's all there."

"Why didn't you bring these out right away?" Rick demands, immediately sorting through the bag. "She gonna keep them?"

"We were kind of dealing with a medical emergency, _dumbass_." If Glenn injected any more sarcasm in his voice, it would damn near drip with it. "She told me to give them over whenever I wanted to. But you should know the only reason you have them is that _she_ was the one who scooped them off the street after I told her how you rode the horse into town."

"What was that all about?" Shane asks. It is a damned puzzling interaction to have right before the gun bag's return if Ellie hadn't cared when Glenn did it.

"I told her she should keep something for herself, since we've decided to be thieves. As you can see, she said no." He shrugs and squares his shoulders. "I'm going to go make sure they don't need help. Somebody else can do my watch shift tonight." 

He walks away after his ultimatum, once again ignoring those who call out to him, going to take a seat at the Dixon camp and keeping his back to them. No one follows, apparently unwilling to argue with him in front of the Dixons. 

Andrea deliberately changes the subject by asking Rick about his journey again, leaving Shane to divide his attention between the miracle of his returned partner and the small group sitting vigil. 

He can't help but feel that something really ugly is going to come of all this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With the various storylines going, I know Clan Dixon incarnations are getting a little wonky. I'm working on making a general resource for my TWD stories out of the site I threw up to hold the RBM family tree, so there are some beginning (and very sadly HTMLed) pages for each story up over at http:// darktidings. atwebpages. com/ (remove spaces, of course). I'll expand it over time. Some of those notes have spoilers, but they shouldn't be "OMG, you ruined it" level. :)
> 
> I haven't cross-tested it on other browsers beyond Chrome yet, so if anything's wonky, let me know.
> 
> I may add a page for research sources for people wanting to really dig into realistic survival stories too, if nothing else, to organize the behemoth of bookmarks I have saved into a better version of chaos.


	4. Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Glenn's stay in the Dixon camp leads to a surprising compliment, even as Rick and Shane realize a tenuous connection to Ellie's husband.

** July 11, 2010 **

Glenn is asleep in the Dixon tent when Shane makes his water delivery rounds, surprising him. He knows the younger man was angry the night before, but not so much he'd risk sleeping in the other camp. It baffles Shane, but he puts it away in favor of trying to enjoy that Rick is back. 

The other man is sitting with Carl at the main fire pit, watching as Carol and Jacqui make oatmeal for breakfast, valiantly foisting Lori off to spend time enjoying her miracle and saving everyone's food from Lori's particular brand of disaster with all things breakfast. 

He drops one of the bigger jugs near the fire where it can be boiled when the ladies have time, taking a seat on Rick's open left side. If it also lets him keep an eye on where Ellie Dixon is dozing in a camp chair while nursing the baby - and out of Lori's line of sight - even better.

"How are things over there this morning?" Rick asks, following his line of sight.

Shane sighs. "She says his temp and levels are back to normal, and he had a couple of coherent periods in the night. The med she gave him for the seizure is making him sleepy on top of his body wanting to sleep to recover. He's off the IV for now."

Jacqui begins handing out bowls of oatmeal, serving the children first. "Is Glenn really asleep in their tent?"

"Yeah, that kinda surprised me too, but he was sprawled out snoring when I dropped off the water. He took over watching Merle so she could sleep a bit when I traded watch with Jim."

"I'll take him some food too," Carol says softly. She looks better rested this morning, due to having a safe place to sleep for the night. Ed hasn't yet ventured out of his tent, even though Shane wishes he'd give someone an excuse at this point. She gathers up bowls, filling four and making her way carefully over to Ellie.

"Did you verify what Glenn said about them leaving?" Jacqui asks. The women all look worried about that, even Lori, to his surprise. Maybe having Rick back smoothed some of her resentments, or maybe knowing that the other woman is a widow rather than Merle Dixon's wife.

"He was telling the truth. She thanked me for sharing camp as long as they did, but says she and Daryl have been wanting to leave for a while now. Merle was the one wanting to stay with a bigger group, but she says he's always had a thicker skin for people not wanting him around. They're going to head up to the mountains. She figures it'll be safer further away from a big population center. Plus the baby needs somewhere indoors for the winter."

"All the kids do," Rick says. He frowns at where Sophia and Carl finish off their food quickly and trail off in some game or another that probably makes sense only to the two twelve-year-olds. "We should try the CDC or something. Just because Atlanta fell doesn't mean everywhere else did. The CDC would have been secure."

"Wouldn't they have come helped us by now?" Andrea asks. It is a back and forth debate in the camp over the complete lack of government presence since the helicopters napalmed the city. "I know Shane's mentioned maybe trying for one of the military bases, in case they didn't have the manpower to be out looking for survivors or just wrote the Atlanta area off as a complete loss."

Rick looks to Shane, who shrugs. "I figured if any installation could survive this, it'd be Fort Benning. Place was a city all by itself. But if they got orders to take out Atlanta, they probably didn't think people would linger in the area instead of coming to them. CDC is too far inside the Atlanta metro. If they were going to be doing anything for survivors, we'd have already seen some evidence around."

"Benning's over a hundred miles away though. Might have been just a couple of hours before all this, but no telling what the roads are like that way, not to mention the gas to get there. I ended up riding a horse to the city for a reason. CDC's closer to check."

"Would we all have to go?" Lori asks. "If the CDC is so close, couldn't a small group go and check it out?"

Shane thinks over the logistics of that. Neither he nor Rick are from Atlanta, so planning out forays into the city is better left to those more familiar, like Glenn. Jacqui and T-Dog went on the ill-fated supply run because both lived in the city. He looks at them. "What do you two think? Feasible to take a car with three or four people over to see how the CDC fared?"

Jacqui looks thoughtful as she swallows her spoonful of oatmeal. "Better than packing everyone up and trying. Used to, probably take less than an hour from here, aside from rush hour, but now, I'd plan on it being a two-day trip. One out, one back. Take too much gas to take everyone unless you intend to keep heading out of the city, and if you want to try Fort Benning if it's a bust, you're on the complete wrong side of Atlanta." 

T-Dog nods agreement and Jacqui continues.

"And if what the little girl said was correct, might be best to do it before the Dixons leave, because right now we've got someone who likely spent years on that campus over there, since the CDC shares an area with Emory. I'd bet she lived out that way too, because I've seen Sadie wearing a Druid Hills Middle School t-shirt before, and she mentioned her working at the Children's Hospital."

"Expensive area," T-Dog murmurs.

"So's most of Atlanta. But if you've ever seen what they pay nurse practitioners, you'd know she could afford it, even as a single mother. Usually can crack the real low six-figures." At the astounded looks she gets from some, she continues. "I had a coworker in the zoning department whose wife was one over at Grady. She made nearly double what we did. Merle made so much noise we never really paid attention to the others."

"Like a rooster," Shane remarks. Merle really kept most of their attention on him and away from his family, allowing a lot of assumptions to take place. He guesses in an unknown situation, it makes sense. No one really wanted to cross the divide to get to know white trash rednecks better, even with the children in the family unit. 

That has a few nodding thoughtfully. 

Rick sighs softly. "Don't think she's going to be willing to go on a run with anyone, or her relatives be open to it."

"Won't hurt to ask." Shane shifts his weight. "Might be information they'd want to know too. Or being from there, she might even have an update. I mean, she's here when the CDC might have been in her neighborhood. That's not promising."

They all look toward the other camp, where Glenn is now sitting sleepily eating oatmeal in the tent opening. Carol stayed, apparently giving in to the lure of holding the baby while her mother eats. From the looks of it, a fairly congenial conversation is ongoing.

"Maybe Shane could go ask. Seems like he's in favor a bit over there," T-Dog suggests. "At least with the lady Dixons."

"Might as well," Shane agrees, passing his empty bowl over to Jacqui. He doesn't make it two steps before screams draw everyone's attention. Sophia and Carl burst out of the treeline. Sophia bypasses them to run for her mother, but Carl skids to a stop, pointing in the direction he came. "Walker. Eating a deer."

The men react quickly, grabbing weapons and running in the direction the boy indicates, Shane in the lead. They hear it before they see it, and it is so set on gorging on the downed animal it doesn't really acknowledge them at all. It makes it easy to bludgeon the thing away from the carcass, with a blow from Dale's axe leaving the severed head still chomping and growling. 

A noise in the underbrush has Shane swinging his shotgun, but luckily, he recognizes the distinctive cussing of Daryl Dixon before he fires. He lowers his weapon as the redneck comes into the clearing, letting loose with a series of curses at the loss of the deer. 

Shane is glad he concedes quickly to the idea the meat isn't safe, but everyone looks at each other apprehensively as the tired and dirty man grabs his bolts from the deer and trudges onward toward camp, yelling for his brother to help with the squirrels he carries.

"I know it's wrong to let a woman catch him up on Merle," T-Dog says, "but I really don't want to be on the receiving end of another pissed off Dixon."

Shane considers that, figuring out of sight might be the better option for the moment. "Why don't you and Jim drag this deer off and dispose of it? Even if there's no more dead coming up the mountain, we don't want scavengers coming near the camp. Come back and get the walker after." The big man takes the out gratefully.

Figuring there is no need in delaying the inevitable, Shane shoulders his shotgun and leads the others back to camp, where based on the volume and content of the cussing from Daryl, he's at least discovered Merle's condition.

When they enter the camp, Daryl pays them no attention, instead focusing on the Subaru, where apparently Glenn and Ellie stuffed the more vulnerable members of the Dixon camp into the cargo area. He can see Sophia inside the vehicle with the other two children and Merle, but from where Carol eases over to set down an axe, she's surprisingly taken up defense along with Glenn and Ellie. 

Lori and Miranda Morales step out of the RV with the other three children as they approach.

Daryl's volume drops considerably when Ellie yanks at his arm and indicates their audience. The man spares a venomous glare their way as he helps Glenn ease Merle's bulk out of the SUV and back onto the cot. 

Merle actually appears to be awake enough to be helping a little with the process. His sun-scorched skin looks worse in the daylight, and as they sit him down while he fusses about something, his scarred back is on full display to everyone. 

It’s even worse in full daylight than Shane realized last night. There are definite lash strokes - belt or worse - along with the circular burns indicative of cigarette burns and one long, jagged one that Shane would guess probably came more from a blade or sharp object than a lash scar.

"Oh my God," Amy gasps. "What happened to him?"

Rick and Shane exchange a look, and he knows his partner was realizing what he did last night. There is no way a man the size and temper of Merle took that kind of abuse as a full-grown adult. From what they said about Atlanta, Merle took on all the men but Glenn without hesitation, and neither Morales nor T-Dog are small guys. 

It's Rick that speaks though. "I'm guessing child abuse."

Amy's young face twists with unexpected sympathy.

When Ellie appears with pants, Shane figures the older man was arguing for something other than boxers, especially the way he keeps glancing toward the girls still in the SUV. With a bit of maneuvering, she and Daryl get them on the oldest Dixon, who finally lays down, breathing heavily. 

The girls scoot out the back hatch then, with Sadie slipping into the chair next to the cot as she dangles the baby out until Merle takes Merry and cradles her to his chest despite the sunburn. From this angle, Shane can see the name emblazoned on the back of her softball jersey is Freeman, not Dixon. Sophia tucks her arms around her mother's waist, watching wide-eyed. 

Everyone watches as Ellie backs Daryl up, obviously explaining something from her occasional gestures toward Merle or those watching them. Their voices don't carry enough to make out words, and Shane wonders just how Daryl is going to react.

"Staring at them isn't going to win us any brownie points," Jacqui mutters, walking off to tackle hanging up the basket of wet laundry that a couple of women took down to the quarry lake as soon as the sun rose. 

Her words have the desired effect, and Dale climbs up to the top of the RV, looking abashed that they left the camp mostly undefended. Lori joins Jacqui after ordering Carl to stay in camp, leaving Shane and Rick to at least appear busy. 

Shane figures the fire is free for the moment, so he dumps water into the big metal pot and angles it to boil while Rick takes a seat. He glances at his partner, realizing how pale the man looks and how he can't stop looking over at the arguing Dixon pair.

"I was so frantic to find my family, I guess I didn't think about other people having families," he admits when Shane sits beside him. "We should have turned back the moment I realized he'd been left."

Shane wants to reassure Rick he'd have left him too, and honestly, he would have, because the man takes douchebag to new heights most of the time, maybe even thinking the Dixon women are better off without Merle. But with hindsight, knowing he was sick and seeing Ellie's desperate vigil over her father last night, he can understand Rick's guilt being twice as bad. 

"She seems to be taking a pragmatic approach about it," he says at last. "Didn't seem all that pissed either time I spoke to her."

"And his brother?"

"More of an unknown quantity, but based on body language, my bet's on him rolling with it too." He tilts a head toward where the argument has ended with Daryl holding Ellie to his chest, rubbing her back with a filthy hand. She pulls away finally, giving the man a little shove toward the camp shower they rigged with an obvious order to shower. 

He grabs up clothes and disappears behind the tarp, leaving Ellie to turn and inspect where her daughter is doing her level best to gnaw on Merle the way she did Shane the previous evening. The older man doesn't seem to mind either, and his commentary is apparently funny, because not only is Sadie giggling hard, but Sophia has ventured a few steps away from her mother, covering her mouth with both hands as she joins in the laughter.

Ellie reaches the cot and eases Merle to a sitting position, doing something to the cot that has the head of it raise up something like a sun lounger. Merle leans back, baby still held to his bare chest, and studies the extra folks in his camp. Shane tenses as his gaze lands on Glenn, rising from his seat and wandering over to his Jeep to fuss with the water containers.

The older man's voice carries when he speaks. "Not sure how much I hallucinated and how much was real, but I'm pretty sure I remember you on that roof with my Ellie."

Glenn nods, looking a bit panicky. "Figured she'd need some help and she wouldn't let anybody else go."

"You got even more balls than I already attributed to you, kid." He mulls it over a minute before he continues. "Thank you for guarding her back."

Shane is almost sure Glenn is going to pass out from the sheer shock of the gratitude from the big redneck, but the Korean nods carefully. "You're welcome."

Merle moves his attention on to where Carol leans against the rear of the SUV. "You shed the dead weight, little mouse?"

She looks puzzled until Merle jerks his chin toward her old tent, where Ed sits smoking, glaring at anyone who looks his way. 

Shane took his hunting rifle first thing this morning, a bit disturbed when the man admits to being out of ammo for it anyway. Asshole was sitting watch with the weapon unloaded, which makes Shane itch to bludgeon the man with it. No one objected when he gave it to Dale to lock away in the RV.

When Carol finally jerks her head into a nod, Merle turns his attention back to Ellie, arching a brow at her. "Is that the reason you're wearing your boy's off-duty weapon, Ellie?"

"More the fact that he's in the camp at all," she answers, hands on her hips. "Wasn't having him thinking he could take advantage of you being sick and only the deputy to rely on. Man had to sleep sometime."

Shane is struck by a few thoughts at once. Once again, a respectful reference to himself, still shocking after all Merle's anti-cop rhetoric, disregard for the fact that Rick had shown up in full uniform, and then the off-duty weapon comment. A glance at Rick tells him his partner caught it as well, from where he ventured out and kept the Jeep's bulk between himself and Merle Dixon's line of sight. 

And then he puts the clues together. A cop husband who died within the last year. "Isaac Freeman," he says softly to Rick, who sighs. The Decatur officer died after being shot at a traffic stop. Their department sent a couple of deputies to the funeral. He was only twenty-six.

Well, fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figure, WTH, why not all four stories in one day getting a chapter out, right? :)
> 
> As of this chapter, only Coarser Souls has any extra chapters set back (two more), so daily updates will possibly slow down to the once a week promised. It all depends on the Muse, but she seems to be running on jet fuel lately, so...
> 
> The importance of realizing Ellie's a cop's widow is that here, at least, there's a pretty hefty protective culture around law enforcement widows and orphans. While they might not have known the man personally, any LEO death will really resonate through the LEO community and their families. Ellie's not going to want the mood shift to extra sympathy though, so ... tempers may go boom.


	5. The Right Thing to Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the Dixons pack to leave, Ellie gains a new patient.

** July 11, 2010 **

"You two look like you just had one hell of an epiphany," Dale says as Rick and Shane move back toward the fire.

Shane sighs. "You're from Georgia, right, Dale?"

The older man nods from his perch. "Over closer to Savannah than Atlanta, but yeah. Lived here most of my life."

"Seemed like you recognized the name Grimes when we all came here."

Dale looks at Rick and shrugs. "Some things are pretty hard to miss on the news. Cops getting shot? That's statewide news."

"And cops dying?"

Shane watches Dale make the connection. Sadie's still facing away from them, helping fold and sort laundry.

"Oh." 

"Yeah."

"They are packing," Dale adds.

He's right. Shane studies the activity in the other camp.

While Sadie may be handling the laundry Ellie dumped yesterday, Ellie's repacking her SUV, and Daryl's got the ramp down to load up the Triumph. Carol's seated with the baby, listening to Merle a little warily, but doesn't seem uncomfortable by the conversation. Glenn's got several piles of supplies he's sorting through with Sophia's help, directing occasional questions to Ellie.

"Seems we might want to get that question about the CDC posed," Rick suggests.

Shane reminds himself that he's faces down methed up brawlers and even armed men, but it still doesn't compare to going to ask a favor of a woman the whole camps either disrespected or ignored. But he owes it to the people he's protecting to have all the information possible.

"Ellie?"

She looks up from where she's putting the carseat back. "Deputy. Mind going round and giving me a hand?"

He shrugs and rounds the Subaru to ooen the other passenger door. She passes the car's seatbelt through the port for him to snag. He buckles it in while she reattaches the LATCH system.

"What's the request you came to make?" It's not the first time he's met that critically assessing gaze, and it still makes him want to squirm.

"Rick's got this idea about the CDC being a source of information."

"In a better world, they might be. Last I heard, they were as lost as the rest of us. If they had any answers, we'd know by now."

"Is it worth a trip out there?"

She half sits, curling a leg under her and sighs. He settles in the other side, taking it as a signal she's going to talk without an audience.

"No. Protocol isn't going to allow them to assist civilians. You live and work that close, you hear things over time. They don't even bring in the employee families."

He lets that sink in. "Merle used to ridicule the idea of Ft. Benning. You agree with that?" She understands the man's thinking, and Shane's not yet adjusted to the idea that Merle might prove friendly in the right situation.

"I think that the military dropped napalm on a city they told the civilian population to evacuate to. They've lost control of this as much as any other government entity."

It's been easier to hold together this mismatched bunch of people when he could tell himself they were just biding time. But now they're halfway through the summer and no sign of any assistance coming. With the walker coming up the mountain, it's clear they can't keep this up.

"That's why you want to retreat somewhere safer, isn't it? You don't expect any help to be coming."

"Only what help we give ourselves." 

"Do me a favor?"

She tilts her head, eying him curiously.

"Take Carol and Sophia with you. I know it's a lot to ask, but short of putting a bullet in Ed's head, I can't guarantee their safety with fewer men in camp." He doesn't think the bastard will fear any of the others left in camp enough to keep himself in check.

"Alright. I'll make sure they go. Thought you were going ask to keep the groups together."

"And what would your answer be?"

"That you've got a camp full of pampered idiots who don't want to believe the world's changed. They're more of a risk than an advantage in keeping my girls safe."

Shane nods in understanding. He's had similar thoughts about keeping Lori and Carl safe. Late at night, when he's alone and not finding a distraction how he's always avoided darker thoughts, he's considered abandoning the camp and only relying on himself to keep them safe. Lori's not entirely inept, if she could pull herself out of this weird tailspin she's been in since Rick was shot.

Now that Rick's back, they really could manage it, he thinks. He suspects the rest of camp, barring maybe Glenn and Morales, would last maybe a week without them. He can't see Rick walking away though. He isn't aware of the realities yet.

"Good luck, Ellie." He reaches across the infant seat to offer her a hand.

She takes it, grip firm. "The same to you, deputy."

He smiles as he eases out of the vehicle. "Deputy makes me feel like I should be arresting you," he comments, resting his forearms on the SUV roof and leaning down to look at her.

She laughs. "I'll continue my trend of being the first Dixon to stay out of handcuffs then. Good luck, _Shane_."

His smile widens and he pushes off the roof to head back to camp and the waiting interrogation.

~*~*~*~*~*~ 

"They haven't struck their tent yet."

Rick's been watching the Dixons worriedly for the last three hours. 

They've packed and rearranged, with Carol bashfully coming to retrieve her and Sophia's things from the RV. She apologized to Dale, who reassured her that she was doing the right thing for herself and Sophia.

"They're prepping water, man. Need the tent for the baby to nap in out of the bugs."

Everyone over here is at a loss do anything but watch. What minimal chores needed to be done are done and everyone is sitting morosely around the banked fire.

"I can't believe she sees a bigger group as a liability," Andrea says. 

"Bigger group means more mouths to feed and more drama to deal with," Shane remarks. "And can you truthfully say that any of us provide an advantage they don't already have?"

More guns is all he can consider, and those not enough to offset the ones unable to use them.

Before anyone can reply, he sees Morales emerge from his own tent, a familiar looking rifle in his hands. Miranda follows, her face set in a grim, forbidding expression. Her husband hesitates, but she makes a rough gesture toward the Dixons. 

The words she speaks aren't in English, but Shane translates it easily enough. 

_We are not thieves._

Morales hands the rifle over to Daryl, who steps into his path long before he reaches the core of their camp. Shane can't hear what words are exchanged, but as long as it doesn't come to blows, he doesn't care.

Morales returns to his tent. Miranda stares at the rest of them, her hands on her hips. Shane doesn't think he's ever seen the normally genial woman look more like a pissed off school principal. She returns to her children after a moment, reviewing whatever school task she's set them to.

"I guess we know why she kept her kids separate today," Jacqui says softly. Like everyone from the Atlanta trip except Glenn, she was against the guns being returned. Now she looks guilty and indecisive.

Shane wonders if the group is about to fracture further without any input from him to Rick about striking out on their own.

Glenn makes his way over with a duffel bag that he sits down beside Dale. "Medical supplies and a first aid manual."

Dale leans down to unzip the bag and nods. "Please thank her for us."

Something's up, because Glenn's got his cap off, twisting the damn thing almost beyond recognition.

"Something wrong, Glenn?" Shane asks.

"I won't be staying."

"You're leaving with the Dixons, son? Are you sure that's wise?" Dale asks.

"If it comes down to who I feel safest with right now, yeah, it's the wise choice." He slides the cap back on his head and stands with his feet braced.

"How can you not feel safe here?" Andrea asks, sounding truly puzzled.

"You left someone to die yesterday to save your own skin. Drove all the way back to camp and didn't even go straight to tell his family. Then you take away their means to defend themselves. What happens if you decide I'm no longer valuable either?"

Shane swallows hard, because he's had those thoughts, about not wanting the responsibility of all these people. Hell, he was just wishing he could take his family and leave.

"Glenn, we would never…"

He waves a hand, cutting off whatever Dale was going to say. "Yes, you would. I'll take my chances with the folks with a better idea than sitting and waiting on someone else to figure out how to survive."

Glenn doesn't wait for a reply, walking to the tent he shares with T-Dog. 

"Shouldn't we try to talk them out of leaving?" Lori says. She's subdued, watching the females of the other camp with a kindness that has been lacking before now.

Shane wonders uncharitably if Rick's shared their revelation and thinks he probably did. There's a unique culture surrounding the widows and orphans of officers killed in the line of duty. Even the families of injured officers fall at least temporarily under that aegis.

Within hours of Rick's shooting, Lori's home was visited by a parade of department wives, sisters, and mothers. All the pressure of running a household with her husband hospitalized taken away without asking for help. She's spearheaded efforts like that herself.

It's probably an instinct by now, twelve years into being a law enforcement wife. Unfortunately, it's a change of behavior he does not think Ellie will accept or tolerate.

"I suspect you would probably be in for the ass chewing of your life," he says.

"Yet she'll speak with _you_?" Lori asks snidely.

"To be fair, they've always been polite to each other. She's almost painfully standoffish, but polite. Something about him makes her sad." 

Amy shrugs when all eyes turn to her. "I like to people watch. Beside, why are you suddenly so worried about her? Last week you spent half an hour trying to convince Shane to ask them to leave after Merle told you to keep your skinny ass in camp if you weren't going to carry a weapon."

Shane remembers that all too well, Merle stalking behind Lori to camp, bitching her out all the way for leaving it in the first place. From the man's smirk when Shane made it back to camp, he knew exactly what he interrupted in the woods.

"You don't carry a weapon in the woods."

The bite in Lori's voice is a bad idea, because something dark crosses the young blonde's expression.

"Yet I've never been up to anything that might make me get an armed escort back to camp. I've been shadowed a few times, but never returnes like a kid playing hooky. Wonder why that is?"

Lori and Shane's escapades in the woods escape being revealed only because Andrea freaks out.

"Shadowed? Who the hell follows you in the woods?"

It's a stupid question, Shane thinks. Obviously one of the Dixons, because anyone else would have just accompanied her.

"Daryl, mostly. Never joins me, but hunts nearby. I can hear the crossbow sometimes. And he's the one who pointed me toward the chanterelles Shane tried to teach us how to find."

"Mostly?" Dale asks.

"Ellie once, although she didn't bother hiding she was keeping an eye out. Merle, twice. He's damned quiet in the woods. Stopped me from picking some berries he said would give everyone the shits we would all regret."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Andrea demands.

"No reason to. Nothing rude was said, unless you count Merle walking away talking about babysitting toddlers lost in the woods. Until Atlanta, he's never hurt anyone."

True enough. Shane actually worries about Ed more than Merle, most days, especially with Andrea's tendency to poke the bear for shits and giggles.

Glenn's packing didn't take long, because he emerges from the tent with a backpack and a gym bag. He looks their way with a sigh when Rick calls his name.

"Hold up a minute."

The young man waits patiently as Rick disappears into his tent, returning with a distinctive Browning handgun. He passes it to Glenn, who takes it with a frown.

"Why are you giving it to me?"

"Because I don't want to impose where I'm not welcome."

Glenn snorts. "Or you're still the dumbass who nearly got us all eaten and can't admit his mistakes."

Rick doesn't manage a reply before Glenn shrugs and leaves, passing the gun to Merle without any hesitation. 

Shane watches as his partner retakes his seat and he worries there's more wrong with Rick than he's letting on. Rick is pale and one hand is trembling. Shane's never seen Rick so inept with words and people.

No one objects to the second gun's return. Shane suspects it's because most know it was the wrong decision anyway. With the Dixons leaving, they don't want it on their conscience.

But looking at Rick, he decides he's begging one last favor of Ellie. Before he can reconsider, he crosses over.

"Ellie?"

She looks up from where she's nursing the baby. He averts his eyes carefully, aware of Merle's intent stare and Daryl moving closer from his truck.

"I shouldn't ask, but I think something's wrong with Rick." He's banking on that same instinct that's plaguing Lori into a turnabout of opinion. Just like Dale remembers the news of Isaac and Rick's shootings, he knows Ellie will, too.

He feels a surge of guilty relief when it works. She nods. "I'll be over in a minute."

~*~*~*~*~*~

No one can ever say that Ellie stints on medical care. Despite her obvious dislike of being within examination distance of Rick, she brings a full kit and goes through a physical close enough to the last one Shane had that he almost expects her to throw in a prostate exam.

She studies the little blood test machine with a frown, while she's still listening to Rick's chest with her stethoscope. "Daryl!"

Her uncle jogs over, answering the urgent tone in the summons even as she begins scribbling on a notepad plucked out of a pocket. "I need you and Glenn to go retrieve as many of these as you can find from the clinic we hit up yesterday."

The man takes the list and reads over it, frowning. "That clinic probably won't have all this. Maybe the outpatient surgery center couple blocks down?"

"Whatever you can find."

The look he gives Shane's group is exasperated. "Guess we ain't leaving today, not if you're needing all this."

Before Lori can explode with worry and impatience, Shane speaks up. "What're you seeing?"

"Refeeding syndrome. Caused by a lot of things, but if he's been hospitalized without eating for weeks, it's due to malnutrition. His body is starved and can't process the calories correctly. Essentially, his body is so hungry for nutrients to rebuild itself, it's drawing too many salts from the blood."

"That's why I keep feeling worse each time I eat, when I can even manage to eat?" Rick asks. "My heart keeps skipping around like a rabbit's."

Daryl's already back at the other camp, rounding up Glenn and prepping for the trip. Shane's impressed how he didn't even argue the necessity.

"Yeah." Ellie frowns at the iStat again. "I can't test everything with this, but enough numbers are low to account for all of your symptoms. If Daryl can find the IV versions of what I asked for, I'll be happier, but I'll settle for the oral medication."

"Have you treated this before?" Lori's voice wavers, giving Shane a flashback to her trying to soldier through the meetings with the doctors when Rick was hospitalized. "Sadie said you worked in pediatrics?"

"Anorexia is more common than I like to think about in pediatric nursing, and malnutrition issues aren't uncommon even without eating disorders. I can't treat it the way I would in the hospital, but I wasn't able to treat Merle by those protocols either."

"So you aren't leaving?"

Ellie pauses in looking through the bag she sent over to shake her head. "No. Not for a few more days at least."

Shane steps in close to lay a hand on Rick's shoulder and squeeze reassuringly, feeling his partner relax under the touch. "Thank you, Ellie."

She looks up, blue eyes scanning from him and Rick to where Carl is hovering next to his mother.

"It's the right thing to do."

As Daryl and Glenn drive off, Shane knows it really is that simple. He wonders if she knows how much they owe her for such basic human kindness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a lot of research that didn't get used in RBM on Rick's health post-coma. This time, he's having a hiccup or two.
> 
> Will the groups separate? I honestly can't say. This is the story most in the dark without an outline past each new chapter. All I can say is enjoy wandering in the land of 'who knows' with me. 😁


	6. Where Their World Stands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The camp faces a walker swarm with one fighter incapacitated and children cut off from the safety of the RV.

**July 11, 2010**

Shane hides a smile as Carl takes full advantage of Lori’s distraction with Rick to follow Ellie over to the Dixon camp asking questions once Ellie needs a break from overseeing his father’s care. He looks around with the empty dishes from Lori, Carl, and Rick’s meal still in hand. No one’s officially on watch in his own camp, but for once, he’s trusting the fact that Daryl Dixon is sitting on top of the cab of his old Ford pickup.

Glenn and Daryl returned within four hours of being sent to the city for supplies. Ellie setup Rick on an IV, after convincing Dale it was something that needed to be done indoors to be entirely safe. That alone ought to make them all feel guilty, when she treated her father by the side of a campfire.

The Dixons did accept the fried fish sent over to their camp. He’s wondering now why Andrea and Amy have been here for months, but just now revealed the ability to fish. Seems like one of those skills they would advertise, especially with Andrea’s complaints about the division of labor. He sure as hell would have preferred her fishing in the canoe to doing laundry.

More surprising is the food sent back, a mixture of mushrooms and wild asparagus that tastes like something from a restaurant, not the woods. Shane’s realizing he made a mistake in disregarding the skills beyond hunting meat that the little family can contribute. It’s like most things in this distorted world - too little, too late - and a stupid decision because he knows foraging’s a good idea from his own backpacking trips.

“Lori still inside hovering over Rick?” Andrea asks as Shane goes to drop the empty plates into the bin set aside for dishes.

He stiffens at the criticism in her tone. “If it makes her feel better to watch him sleep, Andrea, it’s what’s going to happen.”

If watching that IV go in Rick’s arm terrifies him, he can only imagine what it drags up out of Lori’s nightmare fodder. Carl seems to have it easier, but this time he’s got a medical professional willing to answer a kid’s questions directly. Shane’s tempted to pester Ellie himself, but he doesn’t want to push his luck.

Dale lays a hand on Andrea’s arm. “I don’t think you understand what it is like, Andrea, to watch someone you care about undergo medical care of a critical nature.”

The mournful tone reminds him that Dale’s a widower, although at least the man’s wife passed long before the world turned. For some, that’s a blessing.

Andrea’s gaze softens a little, but Shane thinks it’s more for Dale’s sake than Lori’s. She’s been eyeing him, Lori, and Rick with the anticipation of a soap opera watcher since his partner’s miraculous return.

“How is he doing?” Jacqui asks, looking concerned.

“Sleeping, actually. She gave him something to sedate him because he’s been on a sleep deficit as well as all the rest. But the IV will take about six hours. Since she can’t test for all the deficiencies, she’s just hitting him with everything plus antibiotics.”

Daryl and Glenn returned with most of the things Ellie requested, and Shane doesn’t think he understood just how concerned the woman was until he saw the quickly hidden relief on her face as she went through the bags. She’s got a great poker face, probably developed for treating young patients without scaring them, because he didn’t really understand until that moment that she is genuinely alarmed by Rick’s condition.

“Good thing you thought to ask her before they left,” Dale says.

“Thank God. Some of the details she shared…” He shudders. For Rick to make it this far, but risk long-term side effects from malnutrition is terrifying. You hear on TV about starvation, but it’s just so far from the reality most Americans deal with. He never even heard of refeeding syndrome, beriberi, or the other condition the beriberi could become that’s fucking permanent neurological damage.

“Did she say how long they would stay?” Jacqui asks.

“About a week more, which is the limit of her current supplies doing the IVs regularly. She thinks he’ll be okay taking oral supplements by then and probably the worst of it stabilized.”

“But I do predict a full recovery,” Ellie says from behind him, Merry on one hip. From the slight smile, she intended to make him jump. Carl’s beside her, grinning that he actually managed to get so close.

“Ellie’s giving us some vitamins and stuff from her supplies,” the boy announces, rattling a bag. 

“While Rick may be the extreme example of a less than stellar diet, I doubt anyone planned for weeks of this sort of eating,” Ellie explains. “And Merle went quite a bit overboard when I told him I needed more vitamins to keep up with feeding Merry.”

There’s another consideration he knows he hasn’t had, and probably no one else, whether or not Ellie was getting enough nutrition to properly feed the baby. That likely explains the separate supply runs Merle tends to do, and the foraging they are obviously doing based on tonight’s contribution to supper.

“Are you certain it isn’t something you’ll need?” Shane asks. “Because vitamins shouldn’t be as hard to lay hands on as prescription meds.” Hell, those are in half the convenience stores.

Carl passes the bag to Jacqui as Ellie answers. “Like I said, he went overboard. We have enough even after giving y’all these to last us all over six months, including Carol, Sophia, and Glenn.”

“We also wrote down everything Ellie could think about with what Dad needs to do,” Carl adds, displaying a composition notebook. 

He offers it to Shane, who recognizes it from where Ellie was sitting at the RV table earlier waiting on checking vitals before Rick finally slept. Once Rick fell asleep, it seemed the nurse’s tolerance for adult Grimes' company was at an end, and she left to tend to Merry instead of bringing her into the RV.

Shane’s not sure why it catches his eye instead of the notebook he’s just taken from Carl, but when Daryl rises from his sitting position on the truck cab, he goes on alert.

“Ellie? Can you get Carl and the baby to the RV?” he asks softly, handing the book back to Carl. He picks up his shotgun from beside his usual camp chair even as Daryl calls out what none of them want to hear.

“Walkers!”

Chaos erupts around the fire. Ellie and the kids are halfway to the RV when she fires one-handed, and the baby shrieks as gunshots begin to ring out. Shane covers their retreat as best he can, flinching each time the gunfire makes the baby cry harder.

“Get everyone to the RV!” he bellows out, voice hoarse. There’s an echo from the Dixon camp, Daryl firing from his perch with a gun instead of his crossbow.

“They’re inside.” It’s Ellie, standing beside him with her handgun drawn still, firing alongside him. He spares one frantic look back to see Carl at the window of the RV, looking terrified, with Merry sobbing in his arms.

Then the Mossberg is empty and he switches to his Glock, praying the single extra magazine he has on his belt is enough. Beside him, he hears the distinctive sound of a magazine being ejected, but it’s followed by one being rammed home and Ellie firing again. He falls into a rhythm, shoving Andrea and Amy between him and the RV as they’re herded up by Jim and Dale.

With the two men flanking him and Ellie, the swarm seems less overwhelming. Dale’s out of ammo, because he’s bludgeoning walkers with the butt of his rifle. Jim’s laying about with a bat.

He hears echoes of his order to get to the RV from elsewhere in camp, so he tries to keep an eye out for who might still be vulnerable. He makes a headshot on a dead woman advancing toward T-Dog’s unprotected back, wishing the big man would scramble either to the Dixon camp or the RV and fast.

“Amy, climb up!” The crying blonde follows Dale’s orders, and Andrea scrambles up after her. All Shane can think of is thank God for Dale’s thinking. Ellie should climb up too, but he’s not entirely sure they can spare the moments it’ll take away from her firing alongside him. 

The Glock runs empty and he ejects the magazine to the ground just as Ellie did, reloading as his ears ring and throb from the repeated firing of the two guns side by side.

Halfway through the replacement magazine, just when he’s thinking he’ll need to join Dale in nailing the damn things with the discarded shotgun, there are no more targets.

Children are crying in camp and he hates the lack of good lighting.

“Daryl! Whatcha see, man?” he yells out, still holding tense.

“Nothing else moving.”

He can see the man’s still on his feet on top of the Ford. Even better, there’s movement in the bed of the truck, and Shane prays it’s at least a few of the kids lying down for safety. Morales is backed up to the tailgate, with the bat in his hands dripping with gore.

“Andrea?”

“Can’t see anything moving from up here either.”

“Everybody okay? Where are the kids?” Shane calls out. The damned ringing in his ears is going to drive him insane.

The noise of him and Daryl yelling back and forth isn’t summoning any more walkers right now, so he relaxes just a fraction.

“Got three of them in the truck,” Daryl calls back.

Between Merry sobbing and the lighting around the RV itself, he figures he probably doesn’t have to tell Daryl that his niece is safe. But then the math catches up. Three? There’s four kids outside the RV right now.

Before that can really set in, he sees Merle and Sadie come around Daryl’s truck. The older man’s wobbly on his feet, but he’s got his rifle in his hands, while the teenager’s gripping the handgun Rick returned. Carol’s behind them, but drops her bloody axe to climb on the truck bumper and drag Sophia into her arms. 

Miranda Morales sits up in the back of the truck too, her kids cradled to her as Morales reaches in to grip her shoulder as if she’s his lifeline to the world.

T-Dog leans heavily on a shovel, breathing like he’s just run a marathon. Jacqui and Glenn look exhausted too, where they are still standing back to back with an axe and a shovel. They’re either unable or unwilling to stop using each other as a prop.

Ellie holsters her gun, scrabbling for the RV door and her distraught daughter.

“Christ almighty,” Shane mutters, looking at the devastated camp. “Anyone seen Ed?”

“Does anyone even fucking care?” Merle replies.

Shane can agree with that. If they’re lucky, some walkers got a decent meal in before the noise drew them toward the main camp and someone’s bullet or bludgeon.

Merry’s quiet finally, and Shane takes a deep breath to center himself. “Dale, can the other kids go into the RV?”

He’s not sure Carol will actually turn loose of Sophia, but they can crowd the mothers in too.

The older man motions for Carol and Miranda to come, and the women make their shaky way across the space between Daryl’s truck and the RV with their children huddled between them. Merle and Morales escort them, alert to any of the downed walkers not being well and truly dead this time.

Shane hears Carl call his name through the window, which he has cranked open. He turns and sees the boy hovering at the sink, looking frantic despite no longer having responsibility for Merry.

“I’m okay, buddy. Everyone’s okay.”

That seems to be the signal Carl is waiting for, because he slips by the Morales kids and flings himself into Shane’s arms. Shane hugs him tight, kissing the top of his head. Every fiber of his being is glad the boy made it to the RV safely. With Rick incapacitated, he doesn’t want to think about his partner waking up to a world where Carl’s been bitten.

“Where’s your mama?” he asks, belatedly remembering Lori was in the RV too.

“She guarded the door, until Ellie came in.” Carl twists to look up at him, his young expression definitely impressed. “With that meat hammer thing.”

That’s probably the one thing that would get Lori to face off with one of these dead bastards, putting herself between her only son and a door she needs to keep secure. He’s betting she would have gone full-on comic book Thor if anything dead tried to come up those steps. He says as much to Carl, who giggles tiredly.

“Do me a favor, Carl?”

“Sure.”

“Step back inside and keep an eye on the ladies and your dad for us?” He needs to retrieve ammo from his tent for both the Glock and the shotgun, and the boy really doesn’t need to be out here with the carnage around them.

“Alright.” Carl pauses at the door to let Sadie go up the steps first. The older girl has a diaper bag with her, obviously bringing supplies for Merry.

Merle eyes the door until it closes, and it signals the end of whatever adrenaline rush kept the sick and injured man upright. It’s pure luck that Shane catches his weight when Merle’s knees buckle, but it takes Morales’ help to keep the man upright.

Daryl jumps down from his truck, yelling for them to bring his brother over. Between the three of them, they get the man on the tailgate, and Shane holds him steady while Daryl throws a sleeping bag in the back.

He takes over, coaxing Merle to lay down. The soft conversation reminds Shane far too much of some of his own with Rick, and he backs off to meet up with the other men and Jacqui to survey camp.

“Everyone okay? No one bit?”

Shane isn’t sure he can actually handle it if anyone is. He can feel the same adrenaline crash beginning in himself that Merle’s already experienced, and from the expressions of everyone else, they’re feeling the same.

The answers are at least reassuring. Everyone is fine, just exhausted.

“Find a spot to sleep in a vehicle,” he advises at last. “Dale, you want watch up top or me?” With Andrea and Amy still huddled atop the RV, he figures the older man may prefer to be with the two blondes.

“Just let me get more ammo from the RV and I’ll go up.”

Shane nods. The others scatter to vehicles, so he detours by his tent for his own ammunition before climbing in the driver’s seat of his Jeep. It’s as good a lookout post as any, especially with Daryl returned to his alert position on the cab of his pickup.

No one outside the RV except Merle sleeps, waiting tensely in the dark for the sun to rise and make sense of where their world stands now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, lookie here, a walker attack scene with Rick knocked out cold. Poor guy's going to be really freaked to wake up to that...
> 
> And I know traditionally, the camp attack has Lori crying and hiding even in fanfic, but I'm thinking faced with Rick unable to fight and Carl safe, she would at least stand guard. Whether or not that impulse gives us a less bitchy Lori faster, we shall see.
> 
> RL people keep making me lose my train of thought on my RBM chapter... meh. I haven't forgotten the behemoth that started all this, but it's just being a little elusive right now (and the chapters are twice as long.) :)
> 
> Medical note: Beriberi is a condition caused by severe thiamine deficiency, usually only found among alcoholics in first world countries, presenting as Wernicke–Korsakoff syndrome (which is the worse version Shane is thinking of).


	7. Goodbye, Atlanta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The survivors leave Atlanta with a tentative destination of seashore in mind.

**July 12, 2010**

Ellie's insistence on a new IV keeps Rick inside the next morning while everyone else cleans up the camp. Even the kids help once the walkers are dragged away, salvaging items from the tents that didn't make it.

When Daryl approaches Shane and Jacqui where they're rolling the unlamented late Ed Peletier into his own blood soaked sleeping bag as a makeshift stretcher, they both pause.

The other man nudges the remains with his boot. "They got him well enough he couldn't even turn. Good."

"If Carol wants to make double sure of that, she's welcome," Jacqui mutters.

"Might be a safe idea anyway." Shane pulls a knife from the wreckage of Ed's tent and jabs it with vicious satisfaction in the asshole's ear. He screwed up in his oversight of the man, allowing him to think he could harm not only Carol, but the camp's children.

"We can't stay here," Daryl says. "Don't just mean my family. It's not hygienic for anyone, but especially the kids."

"What do you suggest?"

"Pull out to one of the state parks. Couple close enough we could reach with the gas supplies we already have."

Shane's just relieved that Daryl seems to be set on leaving as a group. "Which one? Couple down in or near King County, but that's the opposite way your family wanted to go."

"Thought about those, but never been there to know the amenities or if they're even feasible. Sweetwater is closest, but that's a problem all by itself." Daryl shifts his weight from one foot to another. "I know Ellie said we were thinking about the mountains, but it wasn't the final decision."

Jacqui laughs. "Not like you owe us any reasons for changing course."

Shane's surprised when it earns the woman a ghost of a smile from the reclusive Dixon. "Got to thinking it gets rough sometimes in winter up there. Snow's pretty til you gotta put by enough wood for the winter."

Something in Daryl's tone speaks from experience.

Shane mulls that over. "South? One of the coasts?"

"Yeah. Either go east to one of the barrier islands or south into Florida. Clear off an island, no more worrying about walkers in the night."

Well, hell. Shane's a bit ashamed he didn't think of it. He's been to the damned coast, out by Tybee, just about every summer since he was old enough to remember.

"Can't say much about Florida's Gulf coastline, but the biggest issue about the Atlantic side is Savannah. Probably have the same population problem of Atlanta if they had the same losses."

"Hurricanes would worry me. No weather service to give a week's warning," Jacqui says.

"You can still see them coming early enough to move inland. No traffic jams now, right?" Shane says, and Daryl nods.

"If you know the parks down your way, we'll aim for that direction. Stay, build up supplies, decide ocean or Gulf." 

"That mean y'all aren't going to split off?" Shane asks.

Daryl sighs. "Last night, we barely survived it and then only because of superior numbers. If everyone is ready to acknowledge this isn't going away and no one's going to save us, Merle's adage of safety in numbers applies."

"Can't argue that." Jacqui offers a hand to Daryl. "Start us all on a clean slate, maybe?"

The man looks at her for a long moment, studying her for sincerity, Shane thinks. He takes the hand at last.

"Everyone is going to need a break for lunch soon. Why don't we propose the idea then to everyone?" Shane suggests. He can't see the others objecting. No one is going to want to stay here.

He's proved right, and everyone turns to Rick for an update on King County.

His best friend looks pale and weak still, an image amplified by the fact that he's sitting in the door to the RV with his IV bag hung on something just inside the RV.

"Road going south is bad, but we can just use the inbound lanes. Outside Atlanta, it wasn't too bad. But not much opportunity to find gas because it's deserted."

"If we siphon the jammed cars, far enough out to keep an eye on any migration from the city. Even our worst gas mileage cars would make it easily if we fill the tanks. Even make either coast with full tanks." 

Glenn's assessment is correct, Shane thinks. Even the behemoth of an RV would make it. It's another testament to Rick's state of mind leaving King County that he managed to run out of gas.

"Can't say I'm looking forward to siphoning enough gas to fill the RV, but works for me," T-Dog says. The others agree, even Lori, and Shane figures that the lure of going by her home one last time is part of it.

It solves the problem of disposing of the walkers. They can be left where they've been dragged.

Within an hour, they're on the road from the quarry. Rick, Lori, and Carl stay in the RV. No one wants Rick driving, and Lori wants to stay close. 

It rattles instincts to drive on the wrong side of the freeway, but nothing seems to bother them as they circle wide and south. They don't stop at a jam until they're a good ways out though. No one wants to scramble away from a herd.

With Merle on watch and the kids all left under Lori and Miranda's watchful eyes, the rest of them spread out. Merle looks tired still, and he doesn't argue when he's assigned watch. Testing his ability to run isn't happening, just like with Rick.

The few cars with walkers are worked in tandem, made even easier since all but one are wearing a seat belt. Many doors are ajar and most cars unlocked from where occupants fled on foot. Shane wonders how many survived.

He somehow ends up paired with Daryl. The man continues to be sparing with speech, but Shane's starting to realize it's personality and not antisocial. Daryl produces a gadget to siphon gas, to T-Dog's relief, and volunteers he and Shane for that duty.

The sun's blistering hot by the time they've filled all the tanks plus all of the spare gas cans found along the way. Daryl's truck bed is nothing but spare gas in the end.

They stop for water while the others trickle back to where everyone piled their findings on the pavement near the RV.

"That is a shit ton of useful things," Shane remarks.

Despite objections from Lori that it's akin to desecrating a graveyard, the other adults gleaned as many cars as they could. The camping gear lost at the quarry is definitely replenished.

There's enough cases of bottled water that finding places for them may get tricky, and enough non-perishable food to cover meals for over a week. They even brought back clothing and toiletries, although he's glad to see personal items like toothbrushes being tossed aside. Ellie's got a backpack that rattles with the number of medications she's gleaned as useful.

The best part is one that doesn't surprise him with being in Georgia. Their collection of firearms has now grown by an additional four rifles, two shotguns, and seven handguns, along with over a thousand rounds of ammo. Then there's two machetes and a collection of knives that looks like a blade collector's wet dream.

He's suddenly very glad no one seriously pissed on Merle's idea to search the abandoned cars. He sets to helping load, although some things end up strapped to the rooftops of the Cherokee and the Subaru. 

"C'mon. We get this show on the road, we'll be at the state park by dusk," he orders. 

Since he's the only one who's driving who's been there before, he takes the lead, watching as Ellie's Subaru, carrying her, Carol, and the girls pulls out right behind him. The rest of the caravan stretches as far as he can see in the mirror.

The sense of responsibility for all these people rides hard. With Rick back, he thought he might have help, but the harsh reality is that his brother isn't recovered enough yet. It may be the irony of ironies that he suspects he's going to be damned grateful for the continued Dixon presence as time goes by, and not just for Ellie's medical experience.

The worry stays with him even as they cross back into familiar territory. He leads the caravan to the group camp instead of the cottages or campground. After last night, he likes the idea of sleeping indoors and with everyone close. He can feel exhaustion graying the edges of his vision even as he puts the Jeep in park.

"Everyone sleep in the closest bunkhouse tonight. We can explore more tomorrow in better light." Just clearing these buildings will push the last of the light.

They pair off for it, and once again, he finds himself with Daryl.

"I'm tempted to ask if you're keeping an eye on me," he jokes tiredly as he and Daryl sweep through the staff building.

"Not particularly. Just trust you more than the others at my own back." Daryl peers into the last room. "Glenn wouldn't be bad, but he's still more kid than adult."

Shane's startled by the admission, although it might be damning with faint praise. He can't say he doesn't share the same logic, although after last night, he would add Ellie to his short list, too. He makes a sound of agreement.

"Downside of all of us staying up all night is going to be tonight's watch," Daryl says as they step back into the dimming light. It's the last of the staff buildings they volunteered for, so they head back.

"Could manage another four if I had to."

"Was going to suggest Ellie take first watch. She got some sleep. Then Merle, if he's feeling up to it. You good with that?"

Three days ago he would have said hell no. Tonight, between exhaustion and the revelations about the Dixons in general, he just nods.

Carol's managed to heat up a decent enough supper from various canned goods, so Shane accepts the bowl with thanks to the thin woman. 

He looks around the bunkhouse, noting that Rick's already asleep in the far corner. Lori's pushed two sets of bunk beds together to form a double bed of sorts. From her glare in his direction, he thinks he is going to stick to this end of the big room. It seems that's going to put him on the Dixon end of things.

There's a playpen already at the end of one set of bunks, and it looks like Sadie's got the baby for now.

Shane finishes his food and goes out to retrieve his bag so he can change out of the sweaty clothing he spent all day in. Ellie's already on top of the RV, looking alert but relaxed.

"Baby gonna be okay with you out here?" he asks, curious. Carl at that age would have screamed the house down if separated from Lori for long, but Merry seems to be of calmer personality.

"Fed her as soon as we stopped, so she should sleep until probably midway through Merle's watch shift." 

"She's the most content baby I've ever seen."

Ellie laughs. "She gets that from her father. Apparently, I was a hellion at that age."

"Pretty sure that's my own description."

"Birds of a feather, are we, deputy?"

It's hard to picture the serene woman as being as volatile as himself, but perhaps she's just better practiced at her public image.

"Guess we'll have to wait and see." He gives her a tired grin and she waves him inside. "And Ellie? Name's Shane, remember?"

"Get some sleep before you pass out in the dirt." He gets a glimpse of her supposed impishness in her expression as she adds, "Shane."

Laughing softly, he heads inside, changing into lighter clothes for the night and sprawling on the bottom bunk beneath the top bunk occupied by Glenn. He's asleep before he's had time to fluff the pillow good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any votes toward Gulf vs Atlantic coast? Florida would certainly be new territory for TWD stories for sure. Either way, it will be a fictional location, rather than a real island or peninsula.
> 
> This is a transition chapter so a little dull... Excitement will pick up soon, I promise.
> 
> This Daryl will be more assertive than the other two Rooftop stories, so look for Leader Daryl way sooner than the show. 
> 
> The Greene farm will magically relocate to be in their route to wherever.


	8. Haunted Halls, Part 1 of 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane leads seven of the survivors to clear the military checkpoint and the hospital where Rick nearly died.

**July 13, 2010**

Shane steps out of the truck where he rode over to the hospital with Ellie and Daryl. Behind them, the Cherokee pulls to a halt, with Jim, Jacqui, T-Dog, Andrea, and Glenn piling out. They gather behind Shane and the two Dixons, eyeing the military checkpoint that is uphill from the hospital.

It’s an eerie sight, nothing moving, not even walkers.

“I wonder what happened to the troops that were killing people inside,” he says, brain trying to wrap around how much equipment is left. Did all the soldiers die, or was there much more equipment that his brain isn’t remembering?

“They may still be inside,” Daryl suggests. “Damned rifles they carry would be my last choice for the type of headshots you need to be making.”

“I vote we clear up this first, before we tackle the unknown inside. Rick said there was a heavy population inside,” Jacqui suggests.

“I agree,” Ellie says. “If any of these trucks run, there’s even fuel drums sitting right there. I remember Merle saying it’ll run in these big diesel hummers.”

They’re careful in their search, but there are still no walkers. Shane climbs into one of the eight Humvees after the area is verified clear and tests it. He winces at the noise, but they have to know. 

It starts up just fine despite sitting here for a couple of months, so he switches it off quickly. They are too close to a major infestation to push their luck too far. Daryl tests the next one and Jim the last six. Four of the eight start up without any problem and seem to be in running order according to what Jim’s hearing, and Shane’ll trust the mechanic’s ear. The sole cargo truck starts up, but none of them even attempt the Bradley.

“Alright. Let’s load up all their supplies. If they’re still here after all this time, military sure as hell ain’t coming back for them now,” he orders.

“Fuel barrels need to go on that cargo truck. If any of them are empty, we may see about draining fuel off these helicopters,” Daryl adds.

With Andrea and Glenn set to lookout, Shane and T-Dog wrestle the barrels up onto the truck. Luckily, the hand trucks used to put them near the helicopters are still nearby. Ellie and Jacqui recruit Jim to find containers for the supplies they’re packing up from the tents.

Daryl spends his time going through the scattered and loose crates, sorting them into the back of two of the Humvees along some system Shane figures he’ll explain later.

“You done with the handtrucks?” Jacqui calls out. Shane nods and wheels his over to the tent with T-Dog following. They get directed to a pair of pallets in the corner of one tent. 

“MREs,” Jacqui says. “If we get hungry enough or stuck on the road and can’t cook, those are perfect.”

Shane agrees, and he and T-Dog both stack boxes on their hand carts, since no one’s found a pallet jack to move the whole pallet. They don’t need the pallet itself anyway, he supposes. Just extra weight.

“Forty-eight cases per pallet, twelve meals per case,” T-Dog mutters. “That’s a lot of food, if you think about it.”

“Five hundred and seventy-six per pallet,” Daryl says, passing them with a box that looks heavy for its small size. Ammo, Shane thinks. “Case A or B on the sides?”

“B. That important?”

“Not really. Just tells you which types of MREs might be inside. I like the A better because it’s got chili mac and the fake McRib. But B isn’t terrible.”

“That’s because you don’t like tuna, Daryl,” Ellie says. She offers a box of medical supplies to Daryl to load into the back of the Humvee he put the ammo can into.

“You finding much in your domain out here?” Shane asks.

“Not a lot. They weren’t as concerned about medical, probably because the hospital’s right there. These boys are Guard and they were deployed haphazardly, so they might not have had a medic to pull the right items.”

It takes far less time than expected to pack it all up, so Shane radios in to camp with the news they're going to attempt the hospital. Once that's done, he turns to the others.

"Rick came out a fire door, so that's not an option to go back through. Emergency room is likely overrun. I got out through the front last time I was here. Might be the best choice rather than testing employee entrances."

"You're the local," Daryl says. 

"Is there a hospital map in the entry area anywhere? Hospitals don't always follow the same patterns, and most important for us to access is the pharmacy. Failing that, med cabinets on each floor. Pharmacy won't be on the map, but I can find the cabinets based on the nurse's desks."

"Can you get in the cabinets without keys or codes?" Shane asks.

"They're meant to keep employees honest, not resist brute force."

Glenn laughs, the sound a little nervous. "I just got a picture of you shooting it til it opens."

Ellie giggles. "Might be less noisy than beating it open. Let a nurse have her moment of revenge daydreaming."

The momentary amusement eases some of the tension. Shane assesses the group, thinking he needs to pair everyone off. While those who can shoot are armed, that doesn't include Glenn, Jacqui, or Andrea. Glenn quickly said he knew how to shoot but not safely in close quarters.

In some ways, Lori probably would have been a better choice than Andrea, since she can shoot pretty damned well. But he wasn't asking her to step inside this hospital. Hell, he doesn't want to be here, either, but local knowledge is needed.

"Glenn, you stick with Ellie." He does flick a glance to Daryl, but the man seems fine with the idea. "Jim and Jacqui, Daryl and T-Dog, Andrea with me."

"Works for me. Tee and I will be rear guard," Daryl acknowledges. The other man nods.

"Guns only as a last resort."

After everyone agrees and tightens grips on their quieter weapons, they end up facing the partially ajar front door sooner than Shane likes. He takes a deep breath and rattles the glass to see what emerges from the shadows.

Two walkers lumber into view, and since they can't get through the gap in the doors, he motions to Andrea.

The blonde takes a deep breath and neatly splits the skull of the one snarling in the gap. It blocks any good swing at the others, and Shane moves aside at the tap on his shoulder. The sharp twang of the crossbow isn't quiet, but it's not a gunshot, either.

When nothing else appears, T-Dog helps Shane drag the doors open. Ellie and Andrea each grab a walker and drag them out of the pathway, with Ellie retrieving her bolt. Ellie also removes an employee ID badge off the man in coveralls. Everyone switches on their headlamps as they step inside the dim interior.

"Map is over by the elevator bank." He's cautious as he leads the way into the building. Nothing appears in the two hallways that connect to the lobby. It's a little unsettling, although he isn't looking too closely at the bodies that can't move at all. He’s never been in this place with so few living people inhabiting it.

There’s a foreboding sense of the place being haunted that he can’t shake off.

Ellie studies the map, mumbling under her breath. Daryl steps far enough forward to look with her.

"Alright. I'm good. When you pass bodies in scrubs or take down a walker in them, check for ID badges for RNs. Collect any you find. It's too bad this place didn't have an outpatient pharmacy."

"Mayor's family owns the local one."

Ellie scoffs at the obvious personal gain over public benefit. "Let's hope they closed it up good for our later convenience then."

"Where to?" he asks.

"I'm going to guess that the pharmacy is on this floor, near medical records, or maybe on a basement level, especially if they do their laundry in house. They’ll have a central supply down there too, I imagine. Second floor is obstetrics and nursery, so they'll have some good stuff on their floor."

“Downside to that is that it’s the area nearest the emergency room on this level,” Shane notes. “Do we want to try the basement first?”

"Hold up a sec. Let's block the halls to avoid surprises," Daryl suggests. “Based on the map, this is the biggest and most dangerous floor for that.”

It doesn't take long at all to bar the doors to the hallways that have doors and to relocate the lobby furniture to block the entrance to the one without doors. It won’t necessarily stop walkers in a larger group, but they’ll know something’s on the move if it’s dislodged.

“There are two sets of service elevators. One’s in the wing we just blocked off, over next to the inpatient and outpatient surgery areas. The other is practically next door to the ER,” Shane explains.

“Do you know if the stairs go down a level? They usually do, even if you need a keycard for entering employee only areas,” Ellie asks.

“Yeah, they do.”

“Well, hopefully this card will get us in. Can’t go wrong with an environmental services employee to get almost anywhere short of lockup in the pharmacy or any nuclear medicine areas in medical facilities.”

He has to admit it’s logical. Of all the staff, the ones doing the cleanup are the ones that literally need to be everywhere.”

Shane leads them to the stairs he last used the day he thought Rick died and pushes away that memory. There's nothing in the stairwell, probably thanks to the heavy fire doors that automatically close. But their footsteps echo off the concrete enough to give Shane goosebumps.

He motions for Andrea to open the door, readying his machete. Swiping the card, she makes a hushed triumphant noise when the electronic lock flickers green. He readies his machete, but the area immediately after the door is clear. They enter the basement cautiously, and he motions Ellie and Glenn forward.

There’s a hum somewhere deep in the underground facility, and the corridor is lit with a sickly glow of emergency lighting. “Generator still running?” he muses. It explains the flickering lights Rick remembers in patient areas. “We have a hydroelectric plant near town. Could it still be running.”

“Possible. Or the hospital could run on propane. I doubt they had enough diesel reserved to run that type of generator for months. The emergency system is definitely damaged. The stairwells should have been lit like this hallway.” Ellie frowns, glancing back at the now-closed fire door.

They advance down the hall, with Ellie moving cautiously, Glenn at her right and Andrea at her left, with Shane on the outside of their four-person scouting group. Behind them, the other four have fallen into a similar line, but with more attention on the way they came.

“There were a lot of explosions the last time I was here. Could have damaged something in the infrastructure. Or blown a fuse. Do places like this even have fuses?”

The weird musing gets some nervous laughter from the others, but no one comments as they reach the first door.

“Central Supply. Useful items here, but let’s leave it for now,” Ellie says.

“What sort of things?” Andrea questions, sounding curious.

“Instruments, linens, everything that has to be sterilized for use in the hospital. Ever seen how they have trays all wrapped in shrink wrap when they start a surgery, or if you go in for other procedures. Everything all packed together?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s part of what they do there. I wouldn’t mind a lot of the packages, as many as we can pack up, but there probably won’t be dozens of them. Probably chaos in there, trying to keep up with the hospital’s needs toward the end.”

Curiosity satisfied, they move further down and Ellie whistles softly. “Lookie there, just the magical place we wanted to find.”

But that’s as far as their luck goes, because Ellie’s prediction about the pharmacy’s security means their purloined badge doesn’t work. 

“Do we want to clear this floor completely for safety’s sake before we head up?” Shane asks. Tiring the group out early is risky, especially with inexperienced fighters.

“We should. We know we need this floor, so why risk finding it overrun because some dead asshole gets lucky enough to tumble through a door?” Daryl assesses. The others nod.

Whatever chaos descended above didn’t hit this level. Either the military got lazy and didn’t check the basement or the only person still alive down here at the end was the guy whose ID badge labels him Director of Engineering and Operations. He opted out at his desk near the complex power plant under the hospital, a ragged bite on his arm displaying his reason why. A gore-covered pipe wrench lays beside his desk.

They find walkers, finally, as they edge cautiously through the man’s domain, but they’re all dead. From the head wounds, Shane suspects the late Director cleared them out before or after being bitten. Even Jim doesn’t understand the systems much, other than to acknowledge that yes, there is power still running somehow in the hospital, even if only on an emergency level.

“That’s good,” Ellie notes as they go to clear the Central Supply room. Jacqui and Glenn are both pushing laundry carts they borrowed from the massive hospital laundry room. She tests the director’s keycard on the pharmacy and shrugs when it doesn’t work. “Worth a try.” 

It does work for Central Supply, so they’re faced with a room full of shelves with different quantities of shrink-wrapped packages and a single walker trapped under a fallen shelf. Shane lets Jacqui take on that one, watching as she checks for an ID badge and passes it to Ellie.

“Technician. Might not be useful, but we’ll keep it anyway. Daryl? Want to help here? Glenn, you too. You saw the sort of things I looked for.”

It takes them under ten minutes to select what Ellie deems useful, which fills exactly one of the laundry carts and leaves the room fairly bare. She only leaves behind the items she really can’t use, like the cardiology and lumbar puncture trays. What little loose supplies of bandages, medical tape, and items he isn’t familiar with that remain go in the cart too.

Even as it takes four of them to angle the loaded laundry cart up the stairs, Shane can’t help but agree with the philosophy that Ellie would rather have a truckload of supplies she’ll never need for everyone than have someone die because she is missing a key piece of equipment.

They leave the cart on the ground floor. Daryl and T-Dog go to retrieve the second, still-empty one from the basement level, while Shane turns to Ellie. “Upstairs or tackle the ER?”

“You said the ER was overrun. What about maternity?”

"They did evacuate or discharge maternity and pediatrics first. Saw them airlifting the NICU babies when I drove up to try to make sure Rick was getting transferred like they promised.”

“Alright. We go up then. I feel like a shitty person for hoping there’s a dead nurse walking around here.”

Shane can understand that impulse, maybe even more so, because the more bodies or walkers they encounter, the more likely it is that he knows someone. The hospital employed people from neighboring counties, too, but there’s also a good number of King County folks working here. “All else fails, Rick thinks there was a nurse up on Four, where he was.”

The door to the right, normally secure entry only to the maternity ward, is wedged open. Lights flicker weakly, the signs of the still barely functioning electrical system better here.

Knowing they evacuated the nurseries doesn't stop his relieved breath when the regular nursery blinds reveal a completely empty room. 

"Any supplies Merry might need?" Glenn asks as they reach the door.

"A few, but pediatrics will be better."

With that answer, they pass by the small room where Carl Grimes once spent his first days. The nurse's desk looks like a bomb went off, but at least there are still no walkers and no bodies.

Ellie edges into a room marked for staff with Glenn and returns with a lanyard. "Someone always forgets their ID when there's a crisis."

"Says LPN though." Glenn frowns at the ID, but Shane tries not to look. Odds are high he knows its owner. He got lucky in not recognizing the first three she collected.

"It's worth a try. Georgia doesn't regulate LPNs much and leaves it to the facility. It's possible an LPN badge will work."

She circles the nurse's desk, sidestepping the scattered paper and supplies. He doesn't have to caution her to wait to open the door when the lock flashes green. She passes the card to Daryl and steps back.

Once he and T-Dog clear the room, she heads inside with Glenn. 

"See any laundry carts?" Jacqui asks. “Wouldn’t hurt to have another one, if she hits the jackpot on this floor.”

"Room marked soiled linens back by the elevator," Shane answers.

Jim and Jacqui backtrack to the room, which isn't locked. They dump out the laundry cart and push it back to the nurse's desk just as Ellie emerges with a trash bag full of meds and supplies she dumps in the first one they brought up.

"Good thinking. And we're in luck that the med cart was a card type and they allow LPNs access. It’s not as much as we would have in a normal hospital situation, but every single item helps." She drops her bag and passes Glenn to go back. 

The Korean grins and dumps his armload of powdered formula. "I quote Ellie in saying milk is milk, but after that, please remember that Glenn does not volunteer as the first guinea pig."

While they finish the med supply room, Jacqui and Jim search the employee break room and add coffee and snacks to the collection. 

Jacqui also adds a soft-sided lunch cooler. "Ice packs from the freezer in there in case we find meds that need to stay chilled." 

Ellie thanks her as she declares the area clear for her needs. They push further into the building and sweep the pediatric unit's nursing area as well, taking everything down to diapers and the still viable juice cups in the patient fridge.

"I don't want to push our luck too far," Ellie says. "Any objections to taking this down to load up before we tackle the other floors?"

When they reach the ground floor, Daryl and T-Dog retrieve the Cherokee and move it to the entrance. The two laundry carts completely fill the back, including the passenger area. It’s a good thing they have extra vehicles for the return. Only the cooler remains, and Jacqui shoulders it by the strap.

They aren't as lucky on the third floor. They kill fourteen walkers just getting to the nurse's station on the cardiac wing. This time, Ellie and Glenn load their pilfered goods into the backpacks they brought, sharing them out to the group once full. She hadn’t estimated enough supplies to make it worth dragging a laundry cart up the stairs.

"If that side wasn't ICU, I would say to hell with this floor," Ellie mutters. With two of their members on heart related meds, they managed the cardiac unit first, but Shane thinks the nurse is taking it personally about the number of dead left behind to wander here. He’s more upset by the bodies on the floor. Rick’s floor isn’t the only one where the military turned on living patients.

“We could let it be for now. Tackle it another day,” Shane suggests.

Everyone looks like they’re starting to push their limits, even the normally stoic Daryl.

Ellie takes a deep breath and looks toward the stairs. “I need the fourth floor.”

“Why?” It’s a stupid question. She’s caring for Rick. She’s going to want to investigate where he woke up.

“Nurses are methodical people. It’s drilled into us until we practically document our home lives the same way we do our work duties. Even without the computer systems and doctors overseeing her, whoever took care of Rick probably kept written records.”

Shane squares his shoulders and pushes away the dread, which borders on a phobia, even as Daryl blocks the doors into the ICU wing with parts of an IV pole through the handles.

“Fourth floor it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This just kept going and going and going. It may end up the only story that does this level of a detailed sweep of the hospital, just FYI.
> 
> While normally a hospital would be a smorgasbord of supplies, I suspect with the chaos of the world breaking down, it would be a lot more gleaning of useful things than just loading up bags or carts and hauling them off.
> 
> Ellie wanting to beat a medcart open is doubly inspired... one by the scene in Grey's Anatomy where Dr. Bailey beats one to pieces with an IV pole during a power outage and two by my nurse grandmother's absolutely loathing of the electronic ones ability to glitch when you needed meds the most. Mamaw was an LPN, so I was glad to see Georgia's regs are much like my home state: whatever the hell the employer wants, essentially, as long as there's an RN somewhere in the vicinity.
> 
> Oh! Quick question for the Georgia folks: Do they *really* have partnered police officers in rural areas? My MIL and I were talking about this last Sunday, because she's a former jailer for one of the largest county systems here in our state, and LEOs don't run with partners here. Just not enough people to fill the jobs. If a LEO needs backup, two cars are sent. Even our largest PD in the state doesn't have partnered officers, aside from training situations.


	9. Haunted Halls, Part 2 of 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie shines an entirely different light on Shane leaving Rick at the hospital.

**July 13, 2010**

The fourth floor isn't as he remembers it. There's blood smeared on the walls and puddled on the floors. Bullet holes riddle the walls. But all the bodies are gone but one, painstakingly removed except for a single chained set of doors full of walkers.

Once they've cleared the areas they can, Ellie doesn't go to the nurse's desk. Instead, she crouches next to the remains of a woman in scrubs. Shane realizes this must be the nurse Rick saw, because her body is still almost recognizable. She hasn't been dead long, less than a week.

Ellie is gentle as she checks around the body with gloved hands, sliding a bloody ID card from beneath her. She cleans it off carefully before clipping it to the edge of the vest she wears. Daryl hands her a sheet from the nearest room, and she tucks it carefully around the woman's remains.

Rising from her crouch, Ellie peels off the gloves and drops them in a trash can at the nurse's desk. The desk is a mess, items scattered, including the phone. Shane can't help staring at the phone, imagining Rick trying to contact him or Lori in the confusing hell he woke up in.

"While you look, Glenn and I can clear the supply room," Daryl offers.

Ellie nods absently, and T-Dog pairs with Andrea to check through the rooms. Jim and Jacqui follow, so it's just Shane when Ellie finds the file. It's a spiral bound notebook, with a number of printouts stuffed in the back.

"Is that what you need?" Shane asks, voice cracking as he tries to speak.

"It's everything since the military left, and some of the prior records, but not everything." She hunts around the computer, removing a Post-It note. 

"Login information we can use at one of the desks where the computer still had power. The servers obviously survived a little while for her to print these out, but no guarantees that area hasn't failed like this one."

Considering she's searching the nurse's desk by the light of their headlamps, she could be right.

Jacqui comes back down the hall. "I think she was living in the room next to Rick, if you want to check there too."

Shane's already stood outside all the rooms while the others cleared them. Andrea's sympathy was almost painfully obvious. But when Ellie rises, with Daryl and Glenn still gathering, he follows her.

Room 452 definitely shows signs of occupancy. There's a stack of MREs hidden in the corner between the bed and the window. Stacks of scrubs cover the surface of the visitor's chair, and there's underclothing hung to dry in the closet.

Ellie goes through the books and notebooks on the overbed table, taking a leather bound notebook after skimming it. She puts it in her backpack along with the medical notebook.

"It's a personal journal, but there are some entries regarding Rick."

Shane nods, leaving the room and staring at the next door. 

"You okay?"

He shakes his head and opens the door. It looks much like he remembers, except the flowers are long dead and some of the equipment is scattered from when Rick woke up. He doesn't realize he has the foot of the bed in a death grip until her hand covers his.

Taking a deep breath, he asks, "Did I abandon him to die?"

To her credit, Ellie doesn't immediately say no. "What happened that day?"

"There were soldiers everywhere it seemed like, gathering up anyone mobile and staff. They executed them for no damned reason down at the elevators. He was supposed to be transferred already. I grabbed that gurney and brought it here.

"The machines were working at first. I lifted him, but thought I might need the machine. Was trying to figure out if it did anything other than monitor when I had to hide from a military guy.

"Was after he left that the explosion rocked the building and knocked out the power. I checked, Ellie. I checked his vitals. No heartbeat. No pulse. No breathing."

Her hand squeezes his gently and he looks over to see sympathy in her eyes. "Without being a medical professional, there wasn't much else you could do except sit and wait. And with him comatose? You never would have kept him alive without help."

Ellie looks around the room before turning her gaze back to him. "Shane, outside of this building, without a nurse or doctor and access to an entire hospital's worth of supplies and medication, Rick would be dead. Whether by starvation or infection, I can't predict, but leaving him here saved him."

Shane wants to believe her more than anything, to shed that guilt he still feels from seeing Rick's chest so still in that one last look he took before escaping the military slaughter.

No one's come looking for them, so he asks, "Why couldn't I feel his pulse?"

"You took it at the wrist, right?" He nods and she continues. "A lot of people do, because it's considered less invasive of personal space. It's also one of the worst choices in an emergency, because incorrect wrist position can disguise it. Always try for the carotid artery first."

She presses two fingers to her neck to demonstrate. "Inside of the elbow works too. Closer to the heart, the easier it is to find when something's wrong or you're under pressure."

He tries to commit that to memory.

The door opens and Daryl's standing there. "We really should try the pharmacy and soon. Being up here is agitating the trapped ones."

Ellie follows her uncle and Shane is right behind them. He shuts the door on a room he never wants to see again.

Over half their group already has full backpacks, but they're gathering the laundry carts for this instead anyway. Outside the pharmacy, Ellie swipes the nurse's card, and the light flashes green.

Shane clears the room, which shows signs of recent use. Considering the supplies stored upstairs where Rick was, the nurse was a regular visitor here.

T-Dog and Andrea stand guard while the rest of them dump supplies and medication by the armload into the cart. Ellie isn't being particular once she clears a number of the antibiotics into her backpack.

"Take it all, sort it later," she advises. Jacqui passes her the bag with the ice packs and Ellie carefully packs vials from the fridge. When it's full, she improvises by lining Shane's backpack with ice packs meant for muscle application that she sends Glenn and Daryl for in the previously pilfered items.

"I didn't expect so many refrigerated meds to survive," she explains. "But if we can keep these safety refrigerated, this may be the last we ever see of modern vaccines. They'll spoil in the heat."

It makes him extra careful with the pack. Vaccines make him think of Merry, who lacks the protection the rest of them have from years of careful doctor visits at her age.

Ellie sits at a desk, powering up the computer and tapping her fingers impatiently. She sighs after trying the login information. "Either the server is down or the system here doesn't allow for anyone other than pharmacy staff to login down here."

"Do we need to find another terminal?" Shane asks.

She shakes her head. "I think I have enough. I just wanted to make sure."

This time, when they emerge into daylight, there are two walkers bumbling up. Glenn and Jacqui take them down. Daryl makes a run for a Humvee and brings it closer, and they lift the carts right into the back.

Ellie and Andrea load into the Ford and Jacqui into the Cherokee, leaving the men to drive the Humvees and cargo truck. It's a long caravan compared to what they left with, and Shane knows they'll need to reassess the existing vehicles in favor of the longer lasting military vehicles.

He can see Rick on watch when they approach in the afternoon sunlight. Everything seems calm in camp, although Ellie is out of the truck fast to seek out her daughter, shedding her protective overclothing quickly outside the bunkhouse.

"I would call that a successful run," Rick calls out as Shane steps out of his Humvee. 

"Electricity is still somewhat functional. Made it easier than expected." Shane eases the backpack of refrigerated medication out and walks it towards the RV. 

Dale emerges from the bunkhouse to meet him and Jacqui, who has the insulated lunch cooler. The older man takes Shane's bag with appropriate care. "I'll get these settled in."

"You got plenty of fuel for the fridge, Dale?" he asks.

"Oh, yes. It's the A/C unit I can't really run. Fridge is propane and I have a full forty gallon tank still. We should probably look for spares, though, and maybe a second RV to have a backup in case the fridge itself fails."

Shane makes an addition to his mental list. There's no RV dealer in town, but he knows there are a couple stored at one of the storage units in town. "We'll look into it."

Once Dale and Jacqui step inside, Shane climbs the ladder to join Rick. "How're you feeling today?"

They skipped an IV infusion today due to Ellie going on the hospital run, using it as an experiment for Rick's response to oral medication instead. Shane assumes he's feeling steady to be on watch, but Rick's not always the best at self care.

"Pretty decent, to be honest. I didn't realize how bad I was feeling until the worst of it eased."

That probably means no permanent neurological damage, according to Ellie, but it could take months to fully assess. Shane prays Rick's extraordinary luck holds.

"Ellie confirmed the nurse was looking after you. Found a medical record she was keeping and a journal. She was camping out in the room next to yours."

"Damn. I wonder why she was so willing to do all that for a stranger that might not ever wake up."

"Might have lost her family or not had one. I didn't look at her ID to see if I knew her. Probably should, just for respect's sake." The only one he looked at was the director's, and that one Shane didn't recognize.

Rick nods. "You kept it?"

"Ellie did."

"Maybe we should bury her," Rick says, voice emotional.

Shane winces. The thought did cross his mind, but the body's in such a fragile state he's not sure how they get her out of that place. Supplies like body bags ran out before the evacuation. Maybe sacrifice a sleeping bag?

"Can try. Getting her down the stairs would be hard. Ellie covered her with a blanket." He doesn't want to go back to that floor, but if Rick needs him to, he will.

He can see Rick think it over, but then he shakes his head. "Don't want to risk anyone on it."

"Alright."

Further conversation is interrupted as Carl scurries out of the bunkhouse. The open door reveals the sound of raised women's voices. Lori's is distinct, and Andrea's, but he can't make out the third or fourth.

"Carl!" Rick calls out. "What's going on?"

The boy looks embarrassed. "Mom tried to make Ellie cover the baby with a blanket while she nursed."

Shane notes that the word seems to be tried. He guesses one of the other voices is Ellie. Looking at Rick, he can tell his partner definitely doesn't want to intervene, but it seems they're about to get dragged in because Lori's headed this way, looking furious.

Rick surprises him though. "Save it, Lori. It's too damned hot make that baby wear a blanket to protect your squeamishness."

"Carl was right there talking to her. He could see her breast!"

The boy looks mortified. "I'm not a pervert, Mom. I wouldn't stare at Ellie just because the baby's hungry."

Carl's words deflate Lori faster than anything else that could be said.

"I never said you were a pervert, sweetheart."

"Well, that's what it sounds like. Like I'm some peeping tom. And even if I was, the problem would be me, not Ellie and the baby."

Lori processes that, finally looking embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Carl."

The boy accepts her hug but looks uncomfortable. "I'm not the only one you should apologize to."

And by whatever miracle, Carl's words actually work. Lori nods and presses a kiss to Carl's cheek before heading back into the building.

Carl watches her go before climbing up the RV to join them. 

"Son, that was a very smart way of handling that." Rick smiles at Carl, who shrugs.

"I remembered you and Shane talking about having to deal with a complaint about a mom breastfeeding at a restaurant. You said it was too bad there wasn't a law that allowed you to arrest perverts for staring."

Shane laughs. "That sure would've been nice. Can you imagine old Mr. Davidson having to make bail for his wife after that ruckus she raised at the cafe that day about Melissa Tucker feeding her baby?"

"I'm fairly sure he probably would have left her there to enjoy a night of peace and quiet. And if you recall, we did actually threaten to arrest her."

"What for, Dad?"

"Causing a public disturbance. The cafe owner banned her after that, too. It pays to be nice to people instead of constantly critical."

"Like how Sadie's family changed their mind out leaving once everyone stopped talking about them all the time?"

It's not that simple, Shane thinks, but it reinforces the lesson, so he doesn't complicate the issue when Rick nods.

The apology seems to have worked, because there's no more shouting and Lori comes back outside with Carol to help pull the laundry carts full of pharmacy goods from the Humvee to the building.

"We should go see about helping, Carl," Shane suggests. "Cherokee is packed full of all sorts of medical supplies."

He thinks he's going to need to lead a group to fetch some boxes from the old U-Haul office for them to really sort the mess, but that can wait, for now.

Today he just wants to let the reality of standing in that hospital room and having someone promise him that he didn't leave Rick to die a horrific death. He never expected such reassurance to also include the idea that he saved him instead.

For the first time in months, he feels like he can breathe again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In rewatching the scene where Shane has to leave Rick, I'm struck as always by the inaccurate medical, but hey, at least they tried.
> 
> In the scene, Shane doesn't check a pulse, but I cannot see a first responder not checking that, no matter how panicked and grief stricken. However, my BIL, who was a reserve deputy in a rural parish in Louisiana while going to nursing school, bitched about their first aid course only teaching radial (wrist) pulse because it is more respectful of personal space. Figured that could fit in well here.


	10. What You're Asking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane and Rick get a further lesson in why Ellie's helping Rick, even as they bring Morgan and Duane into the safety of the group.

** July 14, 2010 **

Shane's yawning when he steps out into the early morning sunshine. Breakfast is being cooked on the outdoor grill and smells like pancakes. He can't help double checking that Lori's nowhere near the process. Luckily, it’s just Jacqui and Carol.

Rick's frowning at the radio in his hand, so Shane goes to join him. "Problem with the radio?"

"I think the battery is shot or it got damaged back in Atlanta."

"Easy solution, you know."

Rick looks at him, brow furrowed and the simplicity of the solution bothers Shane that he has to suggest it. It’s another of those signs that Rick’s still in recovery from months-long trauma.

"You remember the house he and the boy were staying in, right?"

"Yeah."

"Let's load up and go see him."

Rick's smile makes the last of Shane's lingering sleepiness dissipate. "After breakfast, sure."

"True. Your nurse won't take it well if I entice you into missing a meal."

Their plan almost goes haywire when Rick's numbers Ellie can assess aren't where she wants them. 

"Can it wait just a few more hours?" Rick asks. "I'm not sure he'll trust someone else."

She sighs, the sound carrying every bit of disapproval she can manage. "This man better be worth it. We'll try injections and supplements today, but if your numbers aren't better when I retest you tomorrow, no more concessions. We tried supplements yesterday and your potassium went down."

"You're more worried this morning than you have been." Rick is watching Ellie carefully.

"Not so much worried as not wanting you to undo all that someone else fought to give you. She _died_ keeping you alive, Rick. Maybe she would have been equally at risk outside that hospital, but instead she stayed and cared for you because you were a wounded cop."

Rick flinches at her words, but she doesn't look away. He finally nods and Shane releases the breath he's holding.

"One more day on the potassium supplement. The others I can inject, but we can't play around when I don't have the access to a lab she did.”

Ellie draws up the first injection. “Can’t give these in your shoulder, Rick.”

Rick sighs and stands from where he’s seated at the RV table. “I think you’re seeing more of my naked ass than my wife these days,” Rick grumbles, unbuckling his pants and dropping them and his boxers past mid-thigh. He cups a hand across his genitals, shy in a way that Shane wouldn’t bother with, especially in a medical setting.

Shane stills at Rick’s words when they register, even as Ellie glances over at where he’s propped against the door. The conversation back at the camp about Ellie being in the woods and keeping an eye on Amy comes to mind. He knows then that she’s well aware he was sleeping with Lori. But she doesn’t comment, instead ripping open an alcohol wipe and cleaning Rick’s skin.

“Put on a little more weight, deputy, and I’m sure all the ladies here will be happy to have more eye candy around.” 

Rick yelps and laughs, since Ellie punctuates the comment by jabbing him in the hip. She discards the needle and reaches for the wipe, cleaning lower on the thigh this time for the next injection.

“I don’t think that would go over well with Lori.”

“Probably not. Nursing school would give your poor wife a stroke, with her hangups about the human body. Shift sides for the third one, please.”

Rick rotates and Shane’s struck again with the ravages the coma wrought on Rick’s frame. His partner has never been overly muscular, but now his chest and ribs remind Shane more of some of the truly round the bend addicts they arrested over the years. Rick hisses a little on the last injection. “Why can’t we do the potassium this way too?”

“Because I am not explaining to your wife or son why I stopped your heart by accident. You can hoist your pants now.” Ellie strips off her gloves and reaches for medication bottles. “Potassium chloride is used to stop the heart during surgery where it can’t be beating. It’s also one of the three injections used in executions for that same reason.”

She’s solemn as she passes a couple of pills to Rick along with a bottle of juice once he’s gotten his pants resituated. “It can also cause muscle damage and affect your sodium levels. It’s just safer as a supplement or an infusion.”

“I applaud your caution then, Ellie. I don’t mean to seem ungrateful.” Rick’s apology gains him a smile off the nurse as she tidies away her supplies into the bag that seems to be designed as what she uses for Rick’s treatments.

“I gave Lori the nurse’s diary last night when I summarized what I was learning from the medical records she kept.” Shane startles a little, wondering if that’s why the woman’s been completely out of sight so far this morning. “She needs to understand as much as you do just how close you came to never waking up at all, Rick. And that you would most certainly have died if Shane took you with him that day.”

Shane closes his eyes, remembering the day before, with Ellie standing beside him in that room that still features in his nightmares. Her words helped, but he doesn’t think the guilt will ever fade completely.

“Shane?”

Rick’s concerned voice makes him open his eyes. All he can see is concern for him on his brother’s face.

“I’m good.”

Ellie stands, sliding the bag’s strap over her shoulder. She steps close to Rick, placing her palm flat over Rick’s heart. “You had the easy part, no matter how much it seems otherwise, until now. They had to watch you waste away. They had to live every day with the reality that you were lost to them and hold themselves together in any way they knew how.”

Shane doesn’t think Ellie’s entirely thinking of Rick’s family at this point, and he can see Rick absorbing her words the same way.

Her voice is soft and mournful. “Please don’t waste their miracle.”

When she turns and heads for the door, Shane opens it for her, turning sideways so she can get by. He watches her go, and there’s a slump to her shoulders that reminds him of that searing, overwhelming grief that drove him out of the hospital and to Rick’s family.

“I’m sorry, Shane.” 

“Nothing to be sorry for, brother,” he says, but he can’t fight down that memory, not with the living reminder of grief they were both just given. It shows in his voice, and Rick’s grip on his bicep is tight. 

He lets himself be hauled in for a hug so tight it’s painful. He’s crying and he doesn’t fucking care. “I thought you were dead, Rick. We all did. We can’t survive that again.”

Shane knows they won’t survive losing Rick again. Carl might, but he’s a child with the remarkable ability to rebound from tragedy. But Shane and Lori? They already scrabbled the ability to take one day at a time from each other in a way that would never work again.

“I don’t intend to die on any of you, Shane,” Rick says softly. His hand is against the back of Shane’s head, reminding him of the way Rick gave him a path out of the grief when Shane’s only remaining family member died the summer between high school and college.

Nodding, Shane returns the hug and tries to push away the grief and guilt. He wonders if Rick will feel the same way if he knows about him and Lori. He finally pulls away, needing to see him when he tells him, but then comes the interruption.

“Are you okay, Shane?” Carl asks.

The boy’s standing near the RV door, staring and looking worried.

“I’m fine, Carl. Just got a little caught up in remembering some things.”

“Okay.” Carl looks to his father. “Breakfast is ready, and it’s sweet potato pancakes with applesauce.”

When they make it to the picnic tables dragged from elsewhere to congregate next to the bunkhouse, most of the others are seated. Lori’s eating, looking up with an absent greeting toward Rick and Carl before returning to the leather bound journal in front of her. 

Shane supposes it’s a good sign that Lori’s taking the request to read the journal seriously. He still takes a seat with a good buffer zone between himself and the slender woman, helping himself from the platter full of still warm pancakes. He has to hide a smile when Carol taps Rick on the shoulder and sets a bottle of blackstrap molasses next to Rick’s plate.

His partner takes the hint, pouring it over the two pancakes he’s taken and rotating the bottle to study the back. Shane doesn’t think Rick’s ever cared for the nutritional labels on food once in his thirty-plus years. But the way Rick cuts his eyes from the bottle to where Ellie’s holding Merry while she eats, he thinks the nurse’s words are sinking in finally.

All it took was the reminder of that it’s a widow trying to restore Rick to full health.

Rick watches her all throughout the meal.

When they’ve turned their plates over to Sadie and her plastic tub, Shane goes to get ready for the run into town. He’s not sure where Rick went until he appears at the Jeep with Daryl at his side.

“Ellie said if you two are going to be dumbasses, she wanted you supervised,” Daryl says with a shrug. He drops his bag and crossbow into the backseat of the Jeep, climbing in and arching a brow as if daring either of them to object.

“You don’t have to go with us, Daryl,” Rick says, even as he climbs into the passenger seat.

“Don’t have to, but Ellie asked, so here I am.”

Shane doesn’t want to argue, even though he’s not entirely sure why it’s Daryl being sent along. But the younger Dixon brother has always been more standoffish than offensive, so he shrugs and gets into the driver’s seat. 

All the way into town, he can see the other man’s watching Rick. It’s almost enough to make Shane uneasy, except it seems almost clinical. He lets it go, not wanting to potentially offend Daryl.

When he parks the Jeep in front of the house Rick indicates, he notes the changes from pretty family home to mini-fortress with approval. He supposes if he stayed in town, he would have had to do the same to Rick’s home to keep Lori and Carl safe.

“Stay put. Don’t want to alarm a man protecting his kid if he sees you two before he sees me,” Rick says. He climbs out and goes up the steps, knocking quietly and calling out for Morgan.

There’s no response after several tries, so Rick makes his way back to the Jeep. “His SUV is here. They can’t be far. He wouldn’t risk Duane on foot.”

“We can ride around a bit. He might have gone out for supplies,” Shane suggests. “Houses are probably easier targets for a man and a kid than the market or other shops.”

The other two agree, so Shane begins a slow sweep of the neighborhood.

“Stop.” Shane hits the brakes at the firm order Daryl gives. The other man’s on his feet in the back of the Jeep, firing the crossbow almost before the Jeep’s fully stopped. 

“Oh, Christ, that’s Duane,” Rick says, tumbling out the door and running down the alley. Daryl’s faster on following than Shane, because he jumps out while Shane has to round the body of the Jeep. 

Rick has the sobbing boy in his arms, rocking him and soothing him like he would Carl.

“Jesus,” Shane breathes out, looking at the walker crumbled on the ground. She’s dressed in a nightgown, and he suspects from what Rick’s told him, that this is probably Duane’s mother. Daryl eases the bolt out of her head, cleaning it on a rag he drags out of his back pocket instead of on the clothing like Shane knows he normally does.

“Where’s your father, Duane?” Rick asks when the boy calms. 

Duane points toward the house. “Basement. I was supposed to be keeping watch.”

There’s a dropped handgun that Shane retrieves, checking that it is not only loaded, but the safety off. He clears the chamber and sets the safety, not certain he wants to hand it back to the rattled kid.

“Why don’t you call out for your dad? Tell him I’m back,” Rick suggests.

“Not supposed to be loud. Might bring the walkers.”

“We’ll keep you covered.”

Duane eases over to the sunken basement window and kicks it lightly with a booted foot. “Dad! Mr. Grimes is back.”

There’s a muffled response and Duane repeats what he said. Two minutes later, there’s a frantic man at the back door. He doesn’t aim the gun he’s carrying, but Shane thinks it’s only because Rick’s the one closest to Duane.

“You returned.” Morgan looks over to Shane and Daryl. “Did you find your boy? Or your wife?”

Rick nods. “With the luck of a thousand lifetimes, but I did. She’s at a camp outside town. Carl too.” He motions toward Shane. “This is my partner. I told you he would get them to safety.”

“Dad?” Duane says, sounding near tears. “Mom came. I couldn’t do it.”

The angle of the house is hiding the woman’s body, but Shane can see the grief sweep over the man like a second skin. “You shouldn’t have to, son.”

“I didn’t have to.”

Morgan startles, looking at his three visitors.

Daryl shrugs. “Couldn’t let her get to the boy.”

It takes the other man a minute to find the words, and thankfully, they aren’t angry ones. “Thank you.”

The redneck just nods, not commenting further.

“We’re traveling east, Morgan. We’d like to take you and Duane with us,” Rick says.

It doesn’t take much explanation of their group or destination to persuade the man, but then again, Shane knows his reason for being stuck here is gone now. They offer to bury Jenny, but Morgan shakes his head. Instead, they watch as the man wraps her body in a quilt and carries her to the backyard of the house he’s been staying in.

It’s heartbreaking even to Shane, a stranger to the little family, to watch Morgan lower his wife’s remains into a grave dug weeks ago from the looks of it. He cannot imagine the task, much less putting her to rest, so he thinks he understands why Morgan’s grief is tinged as much with relief as sorrow.

Once father and son have paid their last respects, packing up their things into Morgan’s SUV is a quick process. Rick rides back with the duo, while Daryl moves up to the front passenger seat of the Jeep.

“Ellie got a little upset with Rick this morning.”

“Yeah, she did.”

“She said he had the easy part.” Shane is trying to wrap his head around that. It’s hard to picture all the pain and surgeries being the easy part.

“He did. He slept through it, just catching the beginning and the end.” Daryl’s voice is a lot less emotional than Ellie’s, but there’s something there. Something Shane thinks he only recognizes because of his own turbulent feelings about Rick’s coma.

They’re almost out of town when Daryl speaks again. “It took Isaac three days to die.”

Shane remembers that. He waited for news of the fallen officer, like every other law enforcement officer in the state probably did. Hoping for the best, but expecting the worst.

With Ellie being a nurse? There’s no way she would have the cloud of hope that Shane and Lori had, being able to hide from true knowledge of what all the medical terminology meant.

“Didn’t die from the gunshot itself, not exactly.” Shane startles when Daryl continues. He’s staring ahead at the road, his jaw set. “Blood clot made its way to the brain. Massive stroke.”

“Jesus Christ.”

The other man makes a pained sound. “Ellie had to make the decision to end life support. It’s why she’s so careful of you.”

“It’s not the same. I didn’t help Rick.”

“It’s exactly the same. You were in the room when someone you loved left the world behind.” Daryl’s left hand spasms, his thumb rubbing along his ring finger in a way that tugs at Shane’s mind. He ignores the fleeting curiosity. “Just make sure he understands what he’s asking of her. What you’re _all_ asking of her.”

This morning isn't the first time Ellie’s called Rick’s survival a miracle. She’s caring for a man who beat unbelievable odds that her own husband did not.

“We will.”

If he has to handcuff Rick to the table inside the RV to keep him from risking the health Ellie’s helping him rebuild, that’s a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Ellie. A lot of what she's doing really is guesswork, because testing for many things pertinent to Rick's condition would require a much better lab than her little handheld iStat.
> 
> This was supposed to be the chapter with more background on Ellie and Merle's familial relationship, but it went a bit off path for a bit. That'll happen next chapter, most likely.


	11. Why Do You Call Him Merle?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Duane's innocent question about why Ellie calls her father by his name spills a big secret about Merle Dixon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Chapter contains reference to statutory rape involving a male character *well* under the current age of consent for Georgia. However, it was not a crime at the time it occurred, as Georgia’s age of consent in 1980 was still 14.

**July 14, 2010**

Supper’s a happy affair, since it seems a vast weight is off Rick’s shoulders with Morgan and Duane Jones safely in their midst. Shane supposes he understands, since he isn’t sure Rick would have survived to find the quarry camp without the father and son’s assistance in adjusting to the world he woke up in. The rest of their group just seems joyful that two more living souls are joining them.

Shane thinks Carl’s the most intrigued. It’s not that there aren’t other children in camp, but the only other boy is significantly younger than Carl. With no restrictions on him interacting with Sadie anymore, he’s been indulging in a bit of a crush on the older girl. She hides her amusement well, being kind to Carl, which gains her all the brownie points in the world with Shane.

The success of the hospital run and clearing the military checkpoint has everyone energized. They’ve agreed collectively to stay another two days, clearing out stores and resources on familiar ground. Once Shane returned Rick to the camp earlier today, he took another group out, and they’re almost out of space in the back of the military cargo truck now that they cleared the local grocery store’s backroom.

There’s been no signs of walkers near the part of the state park they’re in, and the folks who didn’t go on today’s run spent the afternoon running loosely driven posts and barbed wire in a perimeter designed to at least give them warning if anything comes. Merle assures him that they can roll up the wire and reuse it.

Shane just really hopes they don’t have to make camp much. There’s a lot of territory between here and the coast, but he would like to have their most vulnerable a lot safer before they do any supply gathering outside of known territory.

Everyone is relaxed, sitting around a mostly banked fire they don’t need until the sun fully sets, which is damned late with summer in full swing now. With full bellies for everyone and reasonable security, it’s probably one of the nicer nights Shane’s spent since Atlanta fell. He doesn’t have that nagging buzz of worry in the back of his mind so much anymore, pushing him to a constant edge of crankiness with the adults.

Could be the fact that he’s no longer so damned alone in deciding everything. All these folks push him to be the leader, but then get equally pissy when something doesn’t go quite right. He could kick him for not noticing Daryl’s capability sooner, especially since the man seems willing to step up to the plate without all the whining the others like to default to.

Ellie responds to a question Duane asks and Shane misses by telling him to ask Merle, but the boy pauses and frowns a little. Merle’s not sitting with the group, taking a watch shift instead, now that his recovery is a little more stable.

“What’s wrong, Duane? I promise you that he just looks perpetually grumpy.”

“If Merle is your father, why do you call him by his name? Is that a grown up thing?”

The redhead laughs and shakes her head. “I’m not saying some adults don’t do that, but I call him Merle because I didn’t know he was my father until I was nineteen.”

The reply hones everyone’s attention on Ellie where she sits between Sadie and Daryl, with Merry asleep and drooling on the teenager’s lap.

Dale ventures into the conversation. “If you don’t mind my saying, you seem awfully close to have only discovered him as an adult.”

“Oh, I’ve known Merle all my life. But the first nineteen years of it, I thought he was my older brother, not my father.”

Jacqui coughs, looking surprised. “Seriously? I thought that only happened with women appearing to be an older sister to a child her parents are raising.”

Shane thought that sort of thing went out the door with the fifties, hiding children’s origins to save face for the family when they didn’t want to adopt blood kin out to some stranger’s family. Even with revised opinions of the Dixons, they don’t strike him as the uptight sort that would hide a child’s true origins out of misplaced shame.

“I suppose the first question I would venture is how old do you think Merle and I are?”

Shane’s not touching that question with a ten foot pole, and he notices that most of the men have a similar reaction. Andrea tilts her head, studying the other woman for a minute before looking up to where Merle’s settled on top of the RV.

“You’re at least twenty-five, to have your master’s degree and have been working already. I’m thinking closer to thirty because you seem to have more than beginner’s experience,” the blonde says at last. “Merle? Fifty? Maybe a little older.”

“I keep telling him that keeping his head shaved down like that makes him look older. I turned thirty earlier this month. Merle turned forty-five in January.”

Shane can watch as that math clicks into place for each person, some arriving at the conclusion faster than others. A fifteen-year-old as a father definitely might shift some families into simply adopting the child, if given the option. Teenage parents often end up leaving the burden of the raising to the grandparents.

He wonders if they do the math even further on those dates and arrive at the _fourteen_ he just did for when Ellie would have been conceived.

“I suppose that does make it easier to think he was your brother for that long.” Andrea sounds a lot kinder than she normally does in reference to Merle. “Fifteen years is a big gap, but not out of range. I’m ten years older than Amy.”

“It did. It’s a big gap, but not unusual since my grandmother was still in her early thirties when I was born. It helps that I also look like someone cloned Merle’s paternal grandmother, right down to the hair color. Once my grandmother died, the only person that knew any different around us was Daryl.”

“Never would have corrected the idea, either,” the man mutters from his spot near Ellie. He’s working replacement bolts for his and Ellie’s crossbows and doesn’t look up at any of the curious expressions around him.

“How did you find out then?” Dale asks. Shane wonders if the old man’s ever not asked a question to satisfy his curiosity.

“When I was a sophomore in college, this expensively dressed man showed up at my college dorm to tell me he was my older brother, and he needed my help enough to dig up his family’s darkest secret.”

“And what was that?” Even T-Dog’s getting into the background story now, leaning forward.

“His ten-year-old son needed a bone marrow transplant. No one else matched and they were desperate. I thought it was a load of crap, but I figured it didn’t hurt to be tested as a match anyway. Unrelated matches happen. I did match, and he got better.”

“Sounds almost like a soap opera plot,” Andrea notes. “Although I’ve seen equally as odd things happen in studying case law.”

“That’s what I kept thinking, but they _really_ didn’t want their darkest secret to come to public knowledge. An even more expensively dressed man showed up a month or so later with a whole lot of legal papers and a nice big check to convince me to never mention I was related.”

“What bastards,” T-Dog blurts out.

Daryl laughs, the sound a little rough. “You have no fucking idea, man.”

Ellie glances at the younger children, seeming to weigh what she’s about to say. “The man who said he was my brother was two years older than Merle.” She lets that sink in, and Shane thinks the math takes a little longer this time. For Ellie’s unknown mother to have a son two years older than her father, with Merle only fifteen, means the woman was already grown and well into her thirties.

“When I was left with my grandmother as a newborn, she decided that all things considered, life might be a little easier if no one knew who my birth mother was. She burned all my documentation and pretended I was born at home. State gave her a birth certificate, and if that little boy hadn’t gotten sick, I probably still wouldn’t know the difference.”

Shane has the odd thought that the timing fits with when Ellie says Merle got sober and kicked his drug habit. Apparently, it made a big difference to the oldest Dixon.

“How did no one not notice?” Lori doesn’t sound critical, just completely baffled. “I mean, you were born in the summer and wouldn’t a pregnancy be noticed?”

“Not many people cared to take notice of Dixons, especially not back then. My old man was off shacking up with some waitress next county over for months. Merle was in juvie on a six month stint. No one to know but me and Mama.” There’s guilt in Daryl’s expression as he looks up toward his brother on watch before he continues.

“Mama said they might take her away, if I told, so I just didn’t bother, even after she died when Ellie was four. I didn’t think it would matter to Merle like it ended up doing.”

When Ellie reaches out to tuck her fingers around Daryl’s biceps and leans in for a half-hug that definitely indicates comfort, Shane can see what he missed back at the quarry about these two. Regardless of their actual blood relation, these two are siblings in a way that explains a lot of the confusion about how close the two always seem.

“Did you take the money?” Andrea asks. Shane thinks it might be more professional curiosity than the gossipy sort, but who knows?

“Hell, yes. I had scholarships, but they didn’t cover everything, and nursing school is expensive. It covered the shortfall and living expenses, and then my graduate school expenses in full. They wanted me to stay out of their hair really bad. I was willing to not have to work two jobs and go to school _and_ have Daryl helping pay my way.”

Daryl scoffs. “Didn’t want to admit the school counselor was sleeping with her students. And I was perfectly damned happy helping pay for your school.”

Shane blinks, caught in a sense memory he always enjoyed before now, seeing an alternate side to it in the damage dealt to the Dixons in front of him. Mrs. Kelly wasn’t that much different than Ellie’s mother, he guesses, other than he was seventeen instead of fourteen. He pushes the thought away, unwilling to explore that particular part of his past right now.

When Shane looks at Carl, he can tell the boy didn’t hear what Daryl said, but most of the kids are seated just far enough away to miss it. But the adults heard, and the ones out of range will hear eventually from others.

“I can’t imagine being so calm about it,” Amy says, looking saddened.

“Look at it this way,” Ellie begins. “It’s not like I grew up knowing she was out there somewhere, or my brothers or nephew. They’re like characters on television or in a novel. I know, now, that they exist, but their lack isn’t something I mourn. I had Merle and Daryl and…” She snaps her mouth shut when Daryl stiffens. 

When she continues, Shane has the odd feeling that how she finishes the sentence was not her original intent. “And eventually Isaac and Sadie.”

“Isaac?” In the innocence of children, Duane echoes the name. His father shushes him, his own grief evident in response to Ellie’s expression dropping into the far away one Shane’s begun to associate with any mention of her late husband.

She blinks and actually smiles at the boy, though. “Isaac was my husband, Duane. But he passed long before all the sickness started.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, Miss Ellie.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” 

Jacqui, with the tact that few of the others possess, redirects the conversation to tomorrow’s search plans. Shane ends up watching Ellie and Daryl for a minute, because she leans in close and what he overhears sounds like an apology.

And Daryl’s making that rubbing motion against his left ring finger again. 

This time it clicks for Shane. He’s seen Lori and Rick and just about every married person he knows do that when they are anxious about their partner.

There’s no tan line or any other evidence of a recent wedding band on Daryl’s finger, but that habit? It’s still there.

Shane wonders what happened and how long ago, but he sure as hell isn’t willing to kick over that particular hornet’s nest if it’s not something Daryl wants shared.

But based on their interaction once the focus is off them, Daryl’s grieving something as powerful as Ellie has been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, if y'all were curious, now you know. There will be more to the story here and there, but that's the bare bones... 
> 
> And because I'm ornery and like to tease y'all... new Dixon mystery! :)


	12. Begging for a Miracle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble with the RV leads to the group hiding from a walker herd - and three children lost in the woods.

** July 17, 2010 **

Steam billows from the RV and Shane groans. If it wasn't for the refrigerator, he would say abandon the elderly behemoth. They should have gotten a newer model before leaving King County, but it's hard to tell the man to leave it behind.

Merle's already striding up their line of vehicles, and Jim joins him midway. Both men eye the engine. By the time Shane reaches them, they're in agreement. 

"Radiator hose. We should be able to improvise one from that flex hose we gathered up at the auto parts store," Jim suggests.

Merle nods agreement. "Probably take no more than half an hour. Might have some good resources here. Let folks stretch their legs and take a bathroom break."

They've been on the road since just after daylight, and Shane figures the kids are hungry for more than trail mix snacks. He passes the word they're combining lunch and repairs.

People aren't complaining, even at the suggestion to clear vehicles. The kids all cluster around their mothers and giggle as they pick out an MRE to eat. They stay near the spot where the Cherokee and Subaru are in the middle of the caravan.

Shane eats his own MRE, noting the chicken whatever isn't half bad, as he walks along the line of cars. Only a few have walkers inside, and he makes a mental note they can probably ignore those. They have almost a surplus of supplies after King County, but sitting and staring at the cars seems wasteful. They can never have enough ammunition.

The adults spread out and begin the treasure hunt after their quick lunch. Shane's past the RV when he opens the back of a minivan to find what looks like about three months' supply of diapers.

"Hey, Ellie?" He keeps his voice pitched lower, but she turns and smiles. He waves her over. Merry is asleep in a sling against her chest, snoring softly.

"This is a good stash of the next size up. Good find. There's enough room to squeeze them in the trailer on my truck."

He takes a stack of the big boxes while Ellie pokes around the back seat. Tucking the boxes into the trailer, he makes his way back.

"What's going on?" Ellie asks, frowning.

He looks over his shoulder to see T-Dog, looking panicked. The man waves at him, mouthing, "herd", as he makes shoving motions toward Ellie and Merry. 

Shane's blood runs cold. The minivan is all glass, nowhere to hide. But the car ahead has the trunk popped from where Daryl was working ahead. The man's back somewhere closer to the others now.

Shane grabs Ellie, moving her bodily toward the car. "Get in."

She fumbles, trying to comply. A glance over his shoulder shows him flickers of movement among the cars. Ellie makes a pained sound, but she's inside the trunk.

"You too, dumbass," she growls, sounding eerily like Merle. 

He hesitates, but there's nothing close by, and he's too far away to help anyone else. T-Dog's nowhere in sight. He sets his shotgun on the ground. The trunk lid has a bright yellow release handle, so he slides inside, pulling it shut over them and praying the faint click of the latch engaging isn't heard.

Either the jostling from Ellie getting into the trunk or Shane wedging himself close wakes the baby. He feels a moment of terror when Merry whimpers, and he can't see a damned thing to help. There's no way the trunk is soundproof.

Ellie manages to jab him, fumbling in the dark, and then the baby quiets. He would never notice normally, especially over both adults' heightened breathing, but this close?

He knows Ellie shushed her daughter the easiest way possible: Merry is nursing.

The fingers sliding into his hair are unexpected, and he lets his head be angled forward so that his forehead rests against Ellie's in the dark.

"She should go back to sleep."

The whisper is soft enough Shane doubts it can be heard outside of the car. There's a thump and Ellie shudders, fingers gripping his neck almost too hard. He's seen her kill walkers, but this is a new kind of fear.

Merry has to be protected.

He raises a hand to lightly grip her wrist, following her arm back to her shoulder to make sure he stays appropriate in the stifling dark. Another thump sounds, this one louder, as if the walker stumbled into the trunk. He moves his hand around to rub her back.

It seems like fucking hours, trapped in the smothering heat. Merry isn't exactly asleep, but she's quiet, wiggling between them. Ellie's hand drops to right her clothing and pet the baby's soft hair. It's almost as calming to Shane because the movement strokes her knuckles along his breastbone.

Just when he thinks they're never getting out, there's a tap in the trunk.

T-Dog's voice is urgent. "Shane! It's clear, but the kids ran into the woods."

Dammit. Shane reaches above his head and jerks on the release handle, popping the trunk. It takes maneuvering to get out, and he barks at T-Dog as he retrieves his Mossberg.

"What the hell happened?"

He can hear sobbing, and a frantic look shows Lori holding Carol at the railing alongside the highway. He can't be sure if she's restraining Carol or holding her up. Several others are nearby, and he can see at least two children, but the small sizes means it's the Morales kids.

"Something happened. I couldn't see what." The big man is clutching a bleeding forearm, and he's covered in muck.

After a glance to see Ellie's on her feet, he runs up the road. "Lori! What happened!"

"There were some stragglers. Sophia got out from under the car and had to run." The brunette starts weeping like Carol. "Carl went after her, and Sadie after him."

Jesus Christ. Of the three, the girls are at least armed with a knife, and Sadie can probably use hers with some level of skill. He does a headcount of the adults and comes up short.

"Did Rick go into the woods? The Dixons?"

"Yeah. Rick went first, then Merle. Daryl last, once he heard."

Three kids, three adults. He thinks he's probably about to lose another adult in the woods, but he can't just wait. The only good sign is noise carries, and they're hearing no screams and no gunshots.

"Did they get the RV fixed?"

Jim answers. "We were just about to start her up when Dale sounded the alarm."

"Get everyone loaded up and ready to pull out. If there's another herd, pull out and meet us next town up the road." He swings a leg over the rail just as Glenn rushes up with a police radio, a machete, and a determined expression. With a grateful nod, he takes the radio, telling Glenn to stay behind him and keep up.

There ought to be more tracks, but the Dixons are light-footed for such big men. The children, Rick, and the walkers leave unmistakable signs. He stays alert and aware, feeling his blood run cold when the paths diverge.

"Mister Walsh? Mister Glenn?”

He looks up to see Sophia in a tree near where the paths veer off, easily twelve feet off the ground. She's sweaty and a little scraped up, but seems unharmed and not as frightened as he expected.

"How did you get up there, sweetheart?" he asks.

"Sadie pushed me up until I could reach a branch. She was going to push Carl up, too, but the walkers got close and he ran. She followed him that way." The girl points east. "They ran by the big dead tree."

"Did you see any adults?"

"Mister Grimes went that way." Sophia indicates the north. It explains the split trail, but not why Rick veered off. He's not a tracker, but Sophia is right there like a beacon. "He didn't listen to me that they went the other way because he saw a walker the way he went. Told me to stay put until an adult found me."

"You only saw Rick?"

"The Dixons came through. They listened, but only Mister Daryl went after Carl and Sadie. Mister Merle said something about saving morons in the woods and went after Mister Grimes. They told me to stay in the tree, too."

Shane's tempted to be the next adult to tell her to stay put, but he can't do that to the girl. He coaxes her into dangling off the branch and dropping down into his arms.

"Glenn?"

The Korean smiles weakly. "I'll get her back to the others."

Sophia follows the young man, fingers looped into his belt so that Glenn can keep his machete at ready. Since Glenn seems to have a good sense of direction, Shane takes the trail behind the children and Daryl Dixon. Rick's Merle's to save today.

He finds walker bodies first. One is felled by the distinctive pattern of a bolt. The other's skull is half-crushed. He wonders if that one was Sadie or Daryl.

Voices carry in the woods, but orienting on direction is hard. Shane blesses Carl for being a bull in a china shop through the woods. 

"Daryl!"

Daryl turns, crossbow aimed, but he relaxes when he sees Shane. "Did Merle find your idiot partner?"

"No idea. I sent Sophia back with Glenn and came after the kids."

"Dad's still out here?" Carl sounds panicky.

"Pretty sure Merle will find him, and they're both well armed." Well, Merle is, since Shane knows Rick doesn't carry a knife.

"What's that?" Carl turns, gravitating toward a sound. Daryl reaches for his shoulder and misses, even as he eases Sadie behind him with a shove toward Shane. "Dad?"

Daryl strides forward and snatches the boy to him. But the hunter's shoulders relax, so Shane steps to where he can see as well.

The buck is beautiful, more points than Shane's seen in living color before on a deer. It's wary, but doesn't seem inclined to run. Carl pulls at Daryl's hold.

"I want to see how close I can get," he whines.

"Buck that size might trample you flat. Those antlers aren't just for hunter bragging rights either." Daryl's voice is soft and gravelly, and Carl stops pulling.

"Really? Have you ever seen that?"

"Once. Pet deer during mating season gored his owner. Helluva mess."

"Wow. Bucks can be mean, huh?"

"So can the does, if they've got a fawn to protect, and getting trampled by a hundred or more pounds of pissed off mama ain't fun either."

Daryl stiffens, seeing something beyond the deer, and snatches at Carl in a twisting maneuver to switch positions. There's the sharp crack of a rifle. Deer, man, and boy hit the ground.

Shane goes on full alert, aiming his shotgun, torn between protecting everyone and checking on Carl. Daryl saves him from the dilemma by starting to curse colorfully as he rolls to his knees and crawls to Carl.

"Sadie! Gimme your overshirt."

The girl strips off the cotton checkered shirt and hands it to Daryl, who uses it as a pad to hold pressure over Carl's upper stomach, right at his ribs. 

"Gonna hurt, buddy, I'm sorry." Daryl rolls Carl, cursing some more before laying him back flat. "No fucking exit wound."

The clearing is invaded by a frantic Rick and pissed off Merle. Even Shane's about ready to deck Rick by the time the man listens.

The distraction is what saves the stranger, because the man's already apologizing profusely by the time Shane and Merle get their guns aimed.

"It was an accident. I'm so sorry. I didn't see him. There's been no one for months."

He gets a double order to shut up from Shane and Merle, with slight variations of profanity.

Carl's sobbing in pain, and Rick's at least staying out of Daryl's way.

"There's a doctor, on the farm where I'm staying. He can fix him."

Shane can forgive him babbling for that information alone. "Where? How far?"

"About a mile northeast of here."

"How far is the highway?"

"Close to three miles back west."

"Merle? Can you get Sadie back safe?" Shane asks. Daryl seems to have some medical skill he isn't willing to lose right now.

The older man nods. "How do we get to this farm? We've got med supplies and a pediatric nurse with our people. We're at the big traffic jam."

"Drive back a mile west of the jam and take the first right. Look for the mailbox that says Greene on it."

Merle grabs Sadie and sets off at a run.

"Let me carry him," Rick pleads and Daryl backs off after using his own belt to hold the makeshift pressure pad in place. Rick lifts his son and they all three follow the portly man at a run.

For the second time in a year, Shane finds himself praying, begging for a miracle for a wounded Grimes loved one. 

This doctor better know what he's doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Different spin on Carl being shot. This is my one try at rewriting the wounded child storyline to make medical sense.


	13. Can't Survive Otherwise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie arrives in a blaze of Dixon temper to take over Carl's surgery.

** July 17, 2010 **

Shane flinches with each new scream Carl lets out as the white haired man works on the gruesome wound in the boy's side.

"We sure about this?" Daryl mutters, shifting uneasily next to Shane at the foot of the bed. "Ain't seen a doc operate on a kid without any anesthetic before. Need to wait on Ellie and the meds."

Rick looks back over his shoulder. He's sweating profusely, and Shane feels alarmed that Rick's done just what Ellie warned him not to do - overexerted himself. "He's the doctor. It's urgent and he can't wait. It's a _bullet wound_."

Daryl snorts, and Shane frowns. The other man is sweating as much as Rick, and only his tan keeps him from being as pale. "Digging around like that ain't how they do it nowadays. This old man must not have had any updated training since before I was born."

"Would you like to do this, young man?" Hershel Greene turns around, obviously exasperated by the background commentary. The dark haired woman looks equally offended, but the man who shot Carl and the woman comforting him ignore it.

"No. I would like to wait until someone who got their medical training this century gets here." 

Carl latches onto that. "I want Ellie! Dad, I want Ellie!"

Rick looks torn, but Shane can see the war between 'doctor' and 'nurse' pulling him in different directions.

"He's already here, son. Let the doctor work."

Hershel sighs. "Boy is going to need blood. Do you know his blood type?"

"A positive, just like me."

"Then I'm going to need you to donate. Patricia?"

The blonde woman pulls away from the inept shooter, Otis, and grabs supplies, pushing Rick toward a chair.

"Wait a damned minute. He can't donate blood. He's under medical care," Daryl protests.

"If my son needs blood, I'm giving him blood." Rick extends his arm for the woman, just as Shane hears vehicles pull up outside.

"Which one will throttle Rick first? Ellie or Lori?" Daryl asks quietly. Shane just shakes his head. Not a bet he's taking.

There's a cacophony of voices and footsteps before Ellie appears in the doorway, just as Carl screams again.

"What in unholy hell are you doing touching a child with no painkillers? Get your hands off that boy."

Shane finds Merry thrust into his arms and nearly fumbles the baby as Ellie drops a bag to the floor and looks for all the world like she's about to bodily remove the old man from the room. Her temper is almost a blazing entity in the room.

"I said, get your fucking hands off that child."

It's enough for Hershel to throw up his hands and stand. "You people are the most ungrateful people I have ever met."

"Tell that to me when it's not _your_ man who shot a child, and _you_ aren't the dinosaur digging into a helpless kid like it's a game of Operation."

Ellie hip checks Hershel hard enough he stumbles into the shooter getting past the old man to Carl. She doesn't reach for the tools or wound, instead leaning in to cup Carl's pale face. All evidence of her temper fades away.

"Hey, sweetheart. Next time you want to learn more about medicine, let's not be the practice dummy, alright?"

Carl giggles, although it's more sob than laugh. "It really hurts, Ellie. Daryl said he was doing it wrong."

"Daryl would know." She brushes a kiss across Carl's forehead as Lori enters, pushing her way into the room. Ellie inspects the wound, face settling into that intense poker face Shane expects.

The blonde woman nudges Ellie's arm, looking hesitant, even as Ellie digs a vial and syringe out of her bag. "We were about to start a transfusion."

"Not from his father. He's still getting infusions for several metabolic imbalances. What's his type?" Rick answers, looking ashamed. She looks around the room. "Daryl. Backside in the chair."

The hunter grimaces. "Not a good idea, Ellie."

The oddness of his reply and the way he's been shifting his weight falls into place when he lifts his shirt, showing a bloody bandana pressed to his side. Shane's definitely distracted, because he thought Daryl's hand was in his pocket, not under his shirt.

She closes her eyes, and Shane thinks she might be counting. "Get outside and help Merle take a look at that."

"I'm O positive," Lori says softly. "I can donate to him, right?"

"I'm a universal donor," Shane adds, jiggling Merry against his shoulder a little. 

Ellie scans him with a nod, even as she draws up the medication. "Trade spots with Shane, Rick. Lori, drag that chair over, and I'll get you set up as a backup donor in a minute." 

She pauses and stares at the woman with the blood transfusion supplies. "Sweet Mother of God. Please tell me you weren't going to try it direct?"

"It's all we could try."

Ellie sighs and nudges the bag toward Patricia with her foot. Look for the field blood kit. Make sure you grab the donor supply pack."

They shuffle around, and Shane notices that despite being offended, Hershel hasn't left the room. He's glowering from near the doorway, but he has to move when Glenn appears with a big case and a two-wheeled cart.

"X-ray and ultrasound. Thanks, Glenn."

Carl whimpers, clinging to his mother's hand as Ellie injects the medication into the IV port in his arm slowly. "I know it's adding more hurt right now, but give it a minute."

"What is it?" Lori asks. Rick's behind her now, hovering anxiously.

"Morphine. Enough to keep from torturing him while I check the wound. He'll stay awake and less likely to have side effects than the fentanyl I have."

"Have you ever done this before?" Rick is glancing from Ellie to Hershel, even as Shane follows Patricia's quiet instructions as she taps his arm.

"Treated gunshot wounds? Yes. I worked in Atlanta, after all."

"Miss Ellie worked in surgery a long time," Carl pipes up. His words are a little slurred, and he's not whimpering anymore.

"How's your pain level now, sweetheart?"

Carl hums, closing his eyes as if he's thinking about it. "Five."

"Good. I'm going to take an X-ray first, then we'll use the ultrasound and give you some better pain relief. That sound like a plan?"

"Can I see the X-ray?"

Shane smothers a laugh at the boy's request. The pain med must really be helping.

"I'm sure that can be arranged. Gonna have to roll you a bit. You up for that?" Ellie takes a panel from Glenn that Shane recognizes from seeing in the emergency room for on-the-spot X-rays. "We have to slide this under you. Remember what it does?"

"It takes the image that the X-ray sends through it."

"Good memory, kiddo." Ellie checks the wound padding before reaching down to release the corners of the bedsheet. "Lori, I want you to grab the sheet here and here." Ellie indicates near Carl's shoulder and hip. "Roll him gently toward you, but not fully on his side."

"It won't irritate the wound?" Lori takes the sheet even as she asks.

"No more than it already is from how much he's been jostled. Ready?" Ellie slides the plate under as Lori lifts Carl with the sheet. The boy whines, but he's settled back down quickly as Glenn pushes the portable X-ray closer, scattering the onlookers to save their toes.

Shane spares a minute to glance down at Merry, only to find she's sound asleep despite the noise. He feels a little uneasy about her being so close to the X-ray, but if Ellie isn't removing her, he isn't passing her off.

When he looks back up, Ellie's studying at the machine's laptop screen. There's the tiniest furrow as she detaches the laptop and lets Glenn pull the machine out of the way. While she rounds the bed to Rick and Lori's side, Glenn tugs the imaging plate out from under Carl and packs everything away. He's been training with Ellie, but Shane is quietly impressed at how confidently Glenn assists without direction.

"The good news is that I think it missed lungs, heart, and intestines."

"And the bad news?" Lori's got that expression of carefully controlled distress she wore whenever the doctors would deliver Rick's test results. Shane wishes he could see.

"The bullet fragmented, so we're looking at six fragments. These three, here in or around the liver, we need to remove for sure."

Ellie looks up, locating Otis and apparently assessing correctly that he's the shooter from his hunting garb. "Is the ammo lead-free?"

The man shakes his head. "I don't know."

"I suggest you go find out. Bring me the box." Order given, Ellie returns to the laptop screen. The man complies, disappearing from the room.

"Is the type of ammo important? Shouldn't you just remove them all?" Rick asks.

"If they're non-toxic, we could do more damage digging them out than his body needs at the moment." She points at the screen. "One fragment is up behind his collarbone. It's not likely to hurt anything. These two down by his hip can also be ignored for now."

"You mean I get to keep bullet pieces inside me?" Carl sounds rather too excited about that. "It won't be dangerous, like Iron Man?"

Ellie grins and sets the laptop on the bedside table. "Not this far away from your heart."

She goes back to her original spot as Glenn moves forward with another machine. "Now we check for any sneaky bleeding with the ultrasound. Remember how I said it's not just for babies or appendicitis?"

"You showed me Merle's heart. That was cool."

"Well, if Glenn doesn't mind being a machine table, I'll show you yours." Ellie squirts gel on Carl's chest, setting the wand in place. She studies the screen as she sweeps his body from collarbones to hips. The little worried furrow disappears as she works, and she identifies organs to the boy and his parents as she goes.

"No signs of blood pooling anywhere. That means we can just remove the fragments around the liver. It's an odd angle of entry and disintegration, but since the bullet passed through a deer and at least clipped Daryl, it lost a lot of force."

Carl's enchanted by his heart imaged on the ultrasound. 

"It sounds almost too simple," Lori says.

"It's not simple, not really. The liver is a complicated organ, but it is also capable of self-repair on a level few other organs can manage. We'll use a general anesthetic via his IV, remove the fragments and make repairs, and pack the wound."

Ellie ends the ultrasound, wiping Carl's chest and abdomen clean. "Carl, the creepy part is that we shouldn't stitch this closed. So you're going to have a lot of bandaging in your future and a really cool scar like your dad."

"But my dad got stitches."

"His was a different type of wound and they had to repair his ribs. You do have a broken rib, but just one, and I'm betting it's from hitting the ground. It'll heal okay, but no more cross country running for a while." Ellie checks the wound again, raising the pad.

Otis returns with a cardboard box of ammo. Ellie takes it and reads the box, nodding. "At least it's lead-free." She hands it back to the man, dismissing him.

Ellie pulls her bag forward and seems to be taking a mental inventory. "Glenn, park the kit somewhere no one will trip over it and run out to the med supplies. Bring me an appendectomy kit, a surgical prep kit, one of the cautery pen cases, a wound dressing kit, two more field blood kits, and extra hemostasic gauze and saline."

The younger man nods and tugs his equipment out of the room.

Ellie assesses the room, pausing on Hershel. "I need to get this room less crowded. What sort of doctor are you?"

"I'm a veterinarian."

She laughs softly. "Well, I guess that explains how you were handling a human kid. You ever do that to an animal? Because I'm pretty sure you were going to get chewed right up if you went after a dog like that."

"I don't have people medications."

Ellie scoffs. "You would be the first vet I ever met that didn't keep pain meds around. Most of the stuff crosses over."

"I didn't want to overdose him accidentally with no way to intubate."

"That at least makes me feel a little better. I could use a second set of hands that have done surgery before. I can make due if Daryl's mobile, but I would rather have him monitoring Carl's breathing."

Hershel doesn't seem exactly appeased, but he looks at Otis's distressed face and jerks his head in a nod. "I'll go wash up. Otis is an EMT, and Maggie and Patricia are both certified vet techs."

The vet steps out of the room and Ellie eyes the two women. "I need one of you to assist, if you're willing, and the other to chase down at least one more donor to be on the safe side. Any O or any A type. If no one knows their type, there's blood type cards in the field kits."

"I'll assist. And Maggie, Beth, and Otis are all compatible donors for type A if none of your people are," Patricia says, even as she begins releasing Shane from his own donation.

Daryl reappears, looking pale but in a fresh shirt. He's carrying a small oxygen tank and a bag. Ellie jerks her head. "Do we need to move him for you to use the LMA?"

"Nah. I've intubated patients on my belly under a semi before. This is easy compared to contorting in a wreck." He passes a bottle of juice to Patricia. "Give that to our blood donor, will you?"

Ellie steps toward the door, asking about a place to wash up, and Maggie leads her away. Shane thanks Patricia when she opens the cranberry juice for him. He downs it a little too quickly.

"You're a paramedic?" Carl asks, looking curious. Shane isn't sure the boy entirely understands the intubation part.

"Firefighter paramedic with the Atlanta Fire Department for fourteen years." Daryl eases around Lori and sets the oxygen tank down, opening his bag and taking out tubing. "You know what this is, buddy?"

Carl looks at the nasal canula. "For oxygen. Dad had one."

"How about you settle it on your face and show me how it works?"

The boy.obediently loops it on. "It tickles."

"They do tend to do that with oxygen flowing. Gimme your right middle finger." He clips a portable pulse ox monitor onto Carl's finger. "There. You got to flip someone the bird without your mama swatting you for it."

Carl seems to be smiling, but the expression fades. "Intubation is the tube in my throat, right?"

"'Fraid so. But I'm going to use this." Daryl pulls out a package and shows him a piece of equipment. "Once you're sleeping, I'll ease this down. It's not the same as you see on TV, so it doesn't have to go as far in."

"Okay." Carl fiddles with the nasal canula. 

"Don't we need a ventilator?" Lori asks softly.

"We had sticky fingers on that second hospital run," Daryl replies, lifting an odd looking box out of his bag. "Portable ventilator. Grabbed two of them when we requisitioned the X-ray and ultrasound."

Ellie returns, looking freshly scrubbed, with Hershel behind her. "Alrighty. If you are not actively part of the surgery, you need to wait outside."

Otis exits, looking relieved, just as Glenn returns with the supplies. Shane eases to his feet so he doesn't wake Merry, tucking his free hand against her silky hair. It draws Ellie's attention to the baby.

"Can you keep an eye on her?"

Shane nods, figuring she doesn't want the baby to go far and the house is already crowded with folks. He waits in the hall until Rick and Lori give in to the inevitable and join him. Ellie's voice carries, answering Carl's questions with the same good humor and details she's displayed so far with the boy.

Maggie appears with a chair and bags that look like the one Patricia had for Shane's blood donation. "Ma'am? If you can sit, I can get you started. You don't have to go far."

Lori nods, pulling away from Rick's embrace and taking a seat in the chair Maggie positions so it doesn't block the hallway. Rick crouches beside her, holding her hand as Maggie gets things started.

Like any mother with a child in surgery, Lori's eyes are on the door of the bedroom turned operating room. She flinches when Patricia closes it with an apology as Glenn steps out into the hallway.

The Korean looks at Lori and Rick. "He'll be okay. Ellie worked as a surgical first assistant for several years."

Lori just nods and closes her eyes, trembling.

"I can bring another chair." Shane turns to see a blonde teenager he barely remembers from the blur of their arrival. "Or you're welcome to bring the baby to the couch. We can build a little nest for her."

Shane knows Merry has a playpen and two relatives outside, but he's oddly reluctant to pass the baby off. But he can't bring himself to wander far either. "A chair would be nice."

"I'll go get Merry's diaper bag," Glenn offers. Shane nods as the teenager returns with a chair that she positions far enough from Lori and Rick than people can get by. He settles into it, gaze going from the barrier between them and Carl to the parents holding on by the thinnest thread.

"Hey, Rick?"

His brother looks up from where he's kneeling and holding Lori's hand.

"Carl's gonna be just fine. Be arguing about resting up just like his daddy before we know it."

Lori laughs softly, and Rick's smile is sad, but Shane can see the panic fading back enough now for faith to take hold.

Carl will be alright. Their family can't survive otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fiddled with different versions of this, some with less Hershel misstep, but in the end, I kept some of the canon to show just how unbelievably wrong it was.
> 
> A veterinarian would have access to pain medication and tools such as ventilators if he ran any kind of practice, most of them fairly portable if the vet also treats large animals. I can't see a cattle farming vet not having much of the equipment needed. If not on the farm, in his office, rather than Otis and Shane raiding the FEMA hospital.
> 
> But I tried to consider he could be old school as a vet and might not immediately think of things, especially in a high stress situation like a gunshot child.
> 
> As for their equipment... There's so much portable equipment that I can't see them not being lightfingered, and they have generator access for the rechargables in the RV. Technically they could do a manual ventilation (bag to tube) as well.
> 
> Ellie displays a background as a surgical nurse here... Under Georgia law, a Registered Nurse First Assistant can assist a surgeon with pretty much every part of the surgery, but covers the patient pre and post op moreso than the surgeon. More on that in later chapters. She wouldn't do cardiac surgery (or the liver resection in RBM) solo, bit she could pull off Carl's surgery.
> 
> Carl's injuries are different. He would have died of the injuries Hershel described in the time it took for Shane to return. 
> 
> On the blood, over 80% of the population is A or O, so the odds of anyone not being type compatible with Carl is low, although titers could be an issue.
> 
> The whole episode is an epic fail for medical.


	14. Accidentally Hitched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite complications, Carl wakes after his surgery to the relief and delight of his family.

** July 17, 2010 **

Two hours into Carl's surgery, Merry wakes up, blinking up at Shane with bright eyes and smiling. He knows for sure she recognizes him when she angles her hand to pat and grasp for the necklace under his shirt. Lifting her to her feet, he smiles as she gamely balances on her tiny bare feet and babbles softly.

For a child born into a family good at being loud, Merry remains the quietest baby he's ever met.

"Did you have a good nap?" he asks, smiling at the baby.

She laughs, the sound breathy but sweet, and bops her forehead into his collarbone before looking offended. Since she doesn't seem to be hungry and a check of her diaper shows it isn't in need of changing, he rummages in her bag and fishes out a toy frog. The colorful thing makes a crinkly sound, much like a dog toy, making Merry laugh again as she snatches the toy and crams it into her mouth.

"Well, guess that's good practice, gnawing on some frog legs," he tells her.

There's a soft laugh from further down the hall. Shane looks up to see Rick and Lori watching. As the surgery lingered on, Rick shifted from kneeling to sitting on the floor by Lori's chair. They've talked, sporadically, reassuring each other, but nothing sustained. 

It's Rick that laughed. Although his face still shows the tension and worry about what's going on behind closed doors, his brother is managing a smile as he watches them.

Merry decides his distraction is unacceptable and smacks him with her slobbery frog. He makes a face at her and she giggles, louder this time. Her legs are getting tired of standing even with his hands supporting her weight, so she plops her well-padded bottom down on his lap.

"I forgot how good you were with Carl at that age," Rick says.

Shane smiles, keeping the baby balanced as she plays with her toy. "This was the fun stage. Big enough to want attention, but slow enough to keep up with."

That gets a laugh out of both Grimes, because Carl got mobile early, and the boy's never stopped moving since. Shane's always considered having a nephew the best of both worlds. Borrow Carl for a while and pal around with him, then return him home for his parents to tackle the less fun stuff like enforcing bedtimes.

"Uh oh. I know that face. You're a little glowworm."

Shane knows he's about to tackle one of the less fun things, because the off and on reddened face of the baby is unmistakable. She grumbles at him after a few minutes.

"A'right, Miss Merry, let's go find somewhere to fix the mess you just made," he tells her. She gnaws on her frog as he stands, flexing leg muscles gone stiff from sitting in the uncomfortable chair. There's a changing pad in the bag, but he's not going to flop her down in the middle of a hallway floor.

Venturing downstairs rather than poke into bedrooms uninvited, he finds the kitchen easily by following voices. Glenn's at the table with the younger ladies of the household, but Otis is nowhere to be seen. A bag of donated blood is on the table, and the blonde teenager has a bandage on her inner arm as she sips juice and nibbles at a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

"Do you need something?" Maggie asks, rising from her chair with a look of concern. "Beth just got done with giving blood."

"Just a place to change a diaper."

"Living room will be okay for that." She leads the way, pointing out the sofa. "Do you need anything?"

Shane shakes his head, putting the diaper bag on the coffee table and snagging the supplies he needs. Carl's not the only baby he's ever looked after. There's been a single mom or two in his dating history, and he's a little grateful because otherwise he just might have asked the farm girl to change Merry instead if it had been over a decade since he last tried it.

At least he doesn't have to worry about Merry whizzing in his face mid-diaper change. Carl was an ace at that little trick.

The summer heat is in his favor, too. Merry isn't wearing anything complicated, just a purple onesie with a Batman logo and painted-on utility belt. He pokes her gently in the fake belt buckle to make her giggle.

"How about you give me that froggy for a minute? He doesn't need to see this. Traumatize him for life." More entertained by him talking than the toy, she lets go and he sets it aside.

Shane wants no repeats of the incident with Carl and his beloved stuffed Elmo toy. Took him four different toy stores in Atlanta to find its twin.

Once he's got the onesie unsnapped, there's no mistaking the odor. "Princess, we gotta have a chat with your mama about feeding you those mushed up peas if they make this happen."

She giggles, so he keeps up the chatter as he cleans the stinky green mess off her skin. "Maybe give you some sweet taters instead. Or make you a proper Georgia girl and try you some peaches."

Damn, he forgot how damned tiny they are at this age. The new diaper feels dwarfed in his hands as he positions it in place. "We got a deal? Start spitting them peas out, and I'll sneak you the sweet taters so we can say you're eating your vegetables."

Merry blows spit bubbles at him, and he grins as he fastens her onesie back up.

"I'll take the dirty," Maggie offers, stepping up to take the smelly little bundle from him. She's grinning at him. "And I'll keep your secret plot from her mama because that was just the cutest thing I've seen in months."

Shane flushes just a little. He forgot he had an audience. He gives Merry back her frog and puts the wipes and changing pad away. He figures the diaper bag can stay put in here for now.

"We appreciate having a co-conspirator, don't we, Merry? She can't tattle now because she's part of the plot. Charge her with accessory if she blabs."

The baby just giggles as he lifts her back to his chest. He follows the very amused Maggie back into the kitchen and hands the baby off to Glenn so he can wash his hands. Now that the Dixons are fully integrated in the group, he's noticed Merry is extremely particular about who holds her, but Glenn's one of the ones she likes.

He can hear the kid tickling Merry and the crinkle-smack sound of Glenn being walloped with the frog. It's easier to concentrate on things like this, instead of the mystery of the surgery progress upstairs.

"Do you want something to drink?" the girl Shane hasn't met yet asks. Beth, Maggie called her. "Before you go back upstairs?"

Shane shakes his head and thanks her. Merry sees him and leans in his direction enough she nearly tips out of Glenn's arms, so he gathers her back up. 

"You did good earlier, Glenn." Why he feels the need to tell the Korean that, he's not sure, other than it was good having someone level headed in the room. "Where is everyone else?"

"Otis showed them where to park and make camp," Maggie explains. "I didn't figure y'all would be able to leave right away. Lady named Jacqui seemed like she had everything in hand."

"Yeah, she'll keep them busy." He hears footsteps overhead and a door open. Hoping it is good news, he heads for the stairs, Glenn right on his heels.

Ellie startles just a little when they appear, but she's smiling as she glances his way before looking back to Rick and Lori. They're both on their feet and clinging to each other.

"He's stable. It got a little complicated with some bleeding in the liver, but we managed to get it stopped. We also had to remove his gallbladder when we found it had been nicked by one of the fragments."

"What does that mean for recovery?" Rick asks, voice strained.

"Instead of a puncture wound we pack with gauze, it's now an abdominal incision, so Carl got the stitches he wanted." Ellie touches her torso at her breastbone and then her lower rib cage. "Here to here. I inserted a soaker catheter into the wound so we can dispense pain medication that won't effect his entire body."

"Like an epidural?" Lori asks. 

"Close, except instead of going into the spine, which would numb everything from the insertion point downward, it'll just numb his abdomen around the surgical site. We'll take it out in a couple of days."

"Can we see him?" Rick asks. "Is he awake?"

"Yes, you can go in, but he's not awake yet. He should be within the next half hour as the propofol wears off." Ellie steps out of the doorway, letting them step by her. She moves toward Shane, leaning in to kiss the baby's forehead. "Let me wash up a bit, and then I'll take her." 

"That's fine. Take your time."

As she disappears to whatever bathroom she seeks, he ventures into the bedroom. Hershel is taking Carl's vitals, looking solemn and a lot less disgruntled than earlier. Patricia seems to be packing up discarded medical items, including disposable surgical gowns that must have come from the supplies Glenn brought. Daryl's leaning against a wall, eyes half-closed, but Shane thinks he's monitoring Carl in his own way.

Lori's back in the chair from earlier, Carl's hand in hers. She has her head bowed, while Rick rubs her shoulders.

Hershel clears his throat. "He's a healthy young man. I suspect he'll be raring to go and be out of that bed inside of a day."

Shane and Rick both laugh at that. "Knowing Carl, we'll be lucky if he makes it an hour," Rick says. "Thank you for helping him."

The veterinarian nods, writing something down on a notepad. "It was the right thing to do, but the young lady did most of the work. She has more familiarity with human physiology than I do."

Shane looks to the headboard, where a mostly empty bag of blood hangs next to a half-empty bag of saline. "Will he need more blood?"

"I would feel more comfortable with another unit," Hershel admits. "We used both donations already."

"Think your daughter has one ready downstairs," Shane says. Hershel tilts his head and Patricia leaves the room.

Ellie's return is signaled by Merry's excited bouncing. She takes her daughter and cuddles the tiny girl as Carl starts a low whine that turns to a whimper as his eyes flutter open. He mumbles something that has Lori leaning forward, pressing a kiss to his fingers.

"Mommy's right here, sweetheart. Your dad and Shane, too."

Carl blinks some more, eyes unfocused when they finally stay open. "Hurts."

"What hurts, baby?"

He pulls his hand from hers, touching his throat and not his bandaged abdomen. He looks so small and fragile with his middle covered in gauze and tape. More like a child than the near teenager he is.

"That's from the tube that helped you breathe during surgery," Ellie explains, moving forward so Carl can see her. "We'll get you something warm to drink."

"Warm tea with honey?" Maggie startles Shane when she speaks behind him, standing next to Glenn. She gives him an apologetic look as she steps around him to hand her father the pint of blood.

"That'll work, although we may need it in a cup with a straw." Ellie passes Merry back to Shane as Maggie leaves to fetch the tea, with Glenn following.

The nurse moves to the right side of the bed and rummages in the bag she brought and finds a box of lozenges. Popping one out of the foil, she offers it to Carl. "This will numb things a bit, although your tongue will go a bit funny."

The boy makes a face at the throat lozenge, but obediently sucks on it.

"Remember how I said you wouldn't need stitches? That changed, so you have a bunch of them."

"Cool." The lozenge must be helping because Carl looks a bit cheerful about the idea.

"I'm going to have your dad lift you so we can clean the bed up a bit. You feeling up to that?"

Rick looks so damned grateful for something to do to help that Shane's heart aches for him.

"I guess so." 

What follows is a carefully orchestrated ballet of Lori, Daryl, Ellie, and Hershel stripping the bed and remaking it quickly while Carl is cradled gently in Rick's arms. Ellie and Hershel dodge the dangling IV lines to slide some medical padding in place before Carl is settled back against a stack of pillows at an incline.

He's breathing a bit heavy and sweating. "Ow."

"I know, sweetie. You're in for a few grumpy days." Ellie checks the IV sites and switches out the empty pint of blood for the new one. "You need to get better so you can help me blood type all these folks and do up proper medical charts."

"Really? I can keep helping you and Glenn?" Carl looks thrilled with the idea.

"I'll even let you do some of the finger jabs."

Maggie reappears with the requested tea, giving it to Lori to help him sip, while Ellie eyes Daryl critically.

"Go get off your feet, Daryl, and take a dose of Percocet from my supplies. Come here first."

The tall hunter nods, moving from the propped spot he returned to after helping with the bedding and easing his way toward Ellie. She reaches for a fresh syringe and draws a dose of something from a vial after shaking it vigorously.

"Had my tetanus shot in the last ten years, Ellie."

"Well, since we may never have it again, you're getting a booster, along with everyone else in camp." She cleans Daryl's upper arm and jabs him with the needle.

"Do I have to have one?" Carl asks, frowning. Shane guesses he wouldn't want more needles either if he were in Carl's place.

"Already done while you were sleeping. But the bottle needs to be used up now, so I'll give others a booster to finish it off."

Apparently, that means now, because she's drawing up another dose. Shane doesn't even bother to argue when she rolls his sleeve to his shoulder. The alcohol wipe is cold, and the injection burns, but he holds stoic since Carl is watching.

Ellie repeats the procedure around the room, skipping only Maggie, who says she had a booster a few months back along with stitches. Even Hershel gets jabbed, although he returns the favor for Ellie.

"Take the last two doses downstairs for Glenn and your sister. I'll get everyone else later." Ellie passes supplies to Maggie, who nods and leaves.

"Thank you for sharing the vaccine with my family," Hershel says, tone a little gruff. "Your people are welcome to stay until the boy is recovered. We owe that much for what Otis did."

"We should be able to move him in about a week safely," Ellie replies, looking toward Shane to see if he's agreeable, so he nods. "We need to get our people somewhere safer, less open to the dead. But thank you for the respite in not having to move him right away. The RV would be hell on his early recovery."

"Can we really move him safely so soon?" Rick asks. Shane isn't arguing with Ellie's judgement, because he agrees with her about this place being too open.

"It's on par with a C-section on recovery time. I want him moving and on his feet by morning at the latest, but it will be slow going for a few weeks. Six to eight for full recovery."

Both of Carl's parents nod, and Shane's relieved they don't seem inclined to argue. He'll certainly feel safer on an island, like they plan, where Carl won't need to run or climb to stay alive.

"I don't have to stay in bed that long, do I?"

Ellie laughs, ruffling Carl's hair. "Nope. Like I said, I want you on your feet by morning, and you can sit in a chair or rest in bed as you prefer. Just take it easy and make sure there's an adult with you when you move around."

Merry makes a grumpy sound and reaches for her mother, so Shane passes her over.

"I'm going to take Merry out and check on my other two patients. I'll be back in a little while, and I'll bring you something to read, okay?"

Carl nods, and Ellie disappears out the door.

"Who else got hurt?" he asks softly.

Lori answers, although Shane remembers T-Dog's forearm and the gruesome cut. "T-Dog gashed his arm open out on the highway, so Ellie was stitching it up when Merle and Sadie got back to us. She left him in the RV hooked up to and IV with antibiotics while Merle drove her and me here since the RV is so slow."

"Think that bullet clipped Daryl before it got you, son," Rick adds. "Do you remember seeing that before your surgery?"

Carl frowns and shakes his head. Shane thinks it's possible he didn't catch it.

"It was just a flesh wound," Hershel clarifies. "He'll be just fine between the tetanus shot and the antibiotics she's got for him."

Hershel consults the notepad. "You've gotten a good dose of those yourself in your IV, but you'll switch to tablets tomorrow." He turns his attention to the adults. "She gave him ceftriaxone since she noted they were seeing some penicillin resistant infections at her hospital and figured she wouldn't chance it. All his meds are written down here."

The elder man offers Carl a thermometer. "Any nausea?"

The boy shakes his head.

"If you start feeling like you need to throw up, tell one of us. We've got meds for it, and vomiting with a stomach incision is not something you want to try. If your tea stays down, we'll get you some soup later, but no solids until tomorrow."

Patricia reappears, smiling hesitantly. "I'll sit with him and his parents for now, Hershel, until Ellie comes back."

"Could we bring in a cot and sleep here with Carl?" Lori asks. It's still several hours until dark, just past two now, but Shane can understand her need to ask.

Hershel hesitates, but nods, before looking at Shane. "This is the guest room, but Maggie can stay with her sister tonight. I don't think your wife is going to want to go far from him either tonight, so you two and the baby can take the room across the hall."

Shane frowns and opens his mouth to correct the assumption of his and Ellie's relationship, but catches Rick's almost unnoticeable shake of his head. Not sure why Rick wants him to agree, he thanks Hershel instead. He supposes that between him looking after Merry and the wedding set that Ellie still wears, it's easy for the Greenes to assume.

"I'll walk out with you to find the cot," Rick says. "And you can tell Ellie." He leans in to kiss Carl on the top of his curls. The boy caught the subterfuge, but seems as amused as Lori appears confused. He's not going to spill the beans.

Outside, Rick waits until they are halfway to the camp before he speaks. "I don't think Ellie will object, but I would feel more comfortable with you close by, too. We don't know these people."

"Makes sense. Guess I best go tell the missus we got accidentally hitched without her knowledge."

Rick is definitely over the worst of his fear for Carl now that his son is awake and alert, because the asshole laughs at Shane the rest of the way to their camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Carl... I couldn't let it go too easy, not with a stomach wound. Out of the four abdominal surgeries I had, the gallbladder was the roughest because of the terrible, lingering nausea.
> 
> And Ellie just keeps falling to people's assumptions in her marital status, but at least this time it isn't incestuous, right?


	15. Assumptions, Part 1 of 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shane lucks out that his new 'bride' is amused about their new status, and everyone settles in to wait out the recoveries of their injured.

**July 17, 2010**

When Shane and Rick arrive at the little camp, folks are settling in well. All the tents are set inside the protection of vehicles parked in a semi-circle that would make approach by human, animal, or walker difficult without alerting someone. It makes Shane breathe easy to see the defensive pattern. Andrea is on watch, and she alerts everyone to their return.

Daryl is sprawled in front of the tent he shares with the rest of the Dixons, looking half asleep in a camp chair. A pair of IV bags are hung on the same clothes drying rack that they used as an IV pole for Merle's heatstroke back at the quarry.

"Trust Carl to wake up chatting," Sadie says, grinning. She and Sophia are curled together in a single camp chair. After their misadventure in the woods, he imagines they need the closeness. He's honestly surprised that Carol's let Sophia get five feet away, but the gray haired woman is helping Amy set up a campfire on a stretch of already bare ground. Merry babbles from where she’s lying on her belly in the playpen next to the girls.

"It is definitely a relief," Rick says, smiling at the girls. "And Sadie, thank you for sticking with him in the woods."

The teen nods, ducking her head just a little as if embarrassed by the praise.

The rattling of pill bottles alerts Shane that Ellie is seeing to T-Dog. She's counting pills from pharmacy sized bottles into three separate Ziploc bags.

“Clindamycin is the blue capsules three times a day, and the white oval tablet is ciprofloxacin twice a day for ten days," she tells him. "Change the dressing daily, put the antibiotic cream over the sutures each time, and bathe daily but keep it covered with one of the waterproof dressings. We'll assess taking the bandages off after three days."

"That's a lot of antibiotics to use on one person." T-Dog looks uncomfortable at the idea.

"We'll use a lot more supplies if infection sets in, and we have to amputate. I'm not playing around with any of these wounds. God only knows what was on the metal you cut yourself on, before Daryl dumped a festering pile of bacteria on top of you. The other two got hit by a bullet after it passed through a deer. So, I’m taking no chances. Take the oral meds, or I'll settle for injections. Do you really want to have to drop your drawers for me every day for a week or more?"

T-Dog cuts a nervous glance at Merle. Shane can’t imagine he wants the man in any sort of concerned father mode after their fight on the rooftop, despite Ellie being a nurse. "No, ma'am."

"Good. I’d prefer to stop adding more views of y’all’s backsides to my memory.” Her tone is teasing, and T-Dog laughs.

"Why multiple antibiotics?" Rick asks, drawing Ellie's attention. "Is the deer that much of a concern?"

"There are diseases that cross over, but I think the risk is probably low. I'm more worried about general staph or strep infection, which should get taken care of with the combinations I'm giving all three of them. I want to cover as many strains of bacteria as I can at once, rather than backtrack to add more antibiotics later." She passes Rick one of the Ziplocs after scribbling on it with a sharpie.

“He takes the same dose as the adults?”

“He’s twelve, but his weight puts him just up enough for adult doses, too. His meds aren’t the same, because his injury involves abdominal surgery. The metronidazole is the blue oval tablet, which he’ll take three times a day. I’m going to do a loading dose to his IV to start it off while he still has it in. The antibiotic I have him on right now is IV or injection only, so he’ll switch to the ciprofloxacin twice a day. That’s the white oval tablet. If those don’t work well enough, I’ve got vancomycin, but that’s hard on the kidneys.”

“Vancomycin?” Jacqui turns from where she’s working. “That’s for MRSA.”

Ellie nods. “We have no way of knowing what’s in the environment right now, although to be entirely honest, I worry less for that with Carl and more for T-Dog because he had contact with the walker.”

T-Dog eyes his arm hesitantly. “Anything else I need to do?”

“Just keep it clean and take your meds. We’ll keep an eye on it, and thanks to the hospital raid, we are fairly well supplied with different antibiotics. Any sign of infection, you find me the second you see it. Same for pain once the initial painkiller I gave you wears off.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

That gets him an eyeroll out of Ellie. “I’m about ninety percent certain I’m younger than you are, so stop with the ma’am.” T-Dog just laughs, and Ellie turns her attention to Rick and Shane. “Did y’all come out here for something specific? I was going to bring the antibiotics back.”

Shane grins and points at Rick. “We came out to get a cot for him and Lori to use in Carl’s room, but he has something to confess to you.”

“Throwing me under the bus, are you?” Rick mutters, but he seems amused. 

“I was going to correct Hershel’s assumption. You got me to let it slide.”

Ellie’s got her hands on her hips now, looking amused but eyes narrowing. “Why is my bullshit meter going on alert right now?”

“Because you live with Merle?” Sadie pipes up, which makes the man in question snicker from where he’s halfway through setting up a tent.

“Hershel offered up Maggie’s room for you to stay in tonight, so you could be close by with Carl,” Rick begins, still giving Shane a bit of a side eye.

“Alright. That sounds fine, and better for Merry, as well. But that doesn’t include anything that needs a confession.”

“Well, he kinda mistook Shane looking after Merry that you two are married,” Rick manages, “and I got Shane not to correct it. Figured we don’t know these people, not really, and having another one of ours in the house is safer. Especially with the baby and Carl.”

Shane lets his eyes drift from Ellie’s dawning amusement, which is a relief. Merle pauses in his tent assembly, but there’s definite amusement in the redneck’s expression. Daryl, however, has opened his eyes and is frowning as he leans forward in his chair.

Ellie obviously expects the reaction, because she turns to look at her uncle. “Zip it.” She turns back to Shane and Rick. “I guess I can see where the misunderstanding came from, and I don’t see any need to correct it. We won’t be here long enough for it to matter, and having another adult in the house in a way that doesn’t make them nervous is a good thing.”

Jacqui brings a cot forward, offering it to Rick. She’s entertained as well, grinning at Rick as she passes it over along with a lightweight blanket. “Want me to pack a bag up for changes of clothes for morning?” she offers. “We don’t have your tent up yet, since we weren’t sure you would need it.”

“That would be wonderful. I want to get back before Carl decides he’s all better and plots an escape.”

“Shoo. Shane and Ellie can bring a bag up.”

Rick lets Jacqui’s command take hold, taking the book Ellie offers him for Carl, and heading back toward the house. Shane can’t blame him for wanting to get back to his son quickly.

Jacqui looks around camp. “I’ll get everything sorted down here. Maybe send Merle out to hunt so we don’t have to dig into our supplies too much.”

“Saw signs of rabbit in the field when we were settling in. Probably good hunting. Lot of brush and honeysuckle thickets out in those woods,” Merle says. “Might take Sadie out if she wants to go with.”

Shane guesses even with rushing to get the girls back to the group, the man’s been a hunter too long not to take in his surroundings from a survival standpoint. He’s just glad that Merle doesn’t seem to miss a beat in the idea that Jacqui might be passing out duties in camp.

“You got enough folks for watch?” Shane asks her. While he assumed Daryl would do that quiet backseat leadership he tends to do, with Shane otherwise occupied, it seems his wound has him temporarily sidelined. Jacqui stepping in is a relief, and she and Daryl seem to get along well enough.

“Yeah, we’re good there to still keep everyone on a four hour rotation like you prefer.”

That leads to settling other plans for the camp, along with the plan to spend about five days in place at a minimum. Between their supplies, the Dixons’ hunting and foraging, and the idea to look for abandoned farms, they should be able to get by on everything but water. Shane figures Hershel shouldn’t object too much for them asking for access to his wells, as long as they do it politely. Might be able to offer some items in trade as well.

He and Ellie stay with the camp until supper is ready, and they leave to return to the Greene house with a bag laden with food for Rick and Lori. Shane’s got bags with changes of clothes and Merry’s supplies, including the playpen that doubles as her bed.

“You sure you’re okay with Sadie staying down in camp?” he asks before they’ve reached the porch.

“She’ll be fine staying with Carol and Sophia, and you noticed Merle tucked their tent in between ours and Glenn’s. Sadie’s good with staying with Daryl and Merle.”

“She said y’all lived together, before?”

Ellie shifts Merry’s weight and pauses before they’re in earshot of the house. “Yeah. They both showed up on my doorstep as soon as they heard about Isaac and never left. Merle was working down at Savannah as a maintenance supervisor for one of the rental conglomerates.”

Shane can understand dropping everything. He wanted to when Rick was shot, and only the shortage of able-bodied deputies as the virus crept into King County made him put the uniform on every day.

She smiles as Merry reaches for him, but cajoles the baby into not adding to what he’s carrying. “If we’re supposed to be married, you should know that her name is actually Meredith. Meredith Isabelle. Figured you should know since how we say it sounds a bit like she’s named after the Biblical mother of God and religious folks like these might see it as such and make a comment.”

“Pretty.” He thinks the nickname fits better than the formal Mary anyway, since Merry definitely lives up to the nickname. “And is Ellie your full name or short for something else?”

“Eleanor. It was my paternal great-grandmother’s name.”

He looks up at the house, where Maggie’s stepped to the door. “You’re sure you’re okay with this, Ellie? We can correct it now, maybe ask if you can have Carol come up so you’ve got someone with the baby if Carl needs you.”

“It’s fine, Shane. Rick had the right idea. We don’t know these people, and we’ll have two very vulnerable children in the house. I don’t need a babysitter in there. I want backup.”

“Okay. You got your gun in the bag, right?” Ellie nods, and he’s more than a bit relieved she isn’t leaving it behind. Merry whines, still reaching for Shane, not used to him not taking her anytime she reaches out since that night she first cuddled on his chest while her mama went to her grandfather’s rescue. “We best get everything inside before she pitches a fit.”

When they reach the porch, the brunette at the door pushes the screen open. “I turned the fan on in my room to get the air moving around. We’ve been trying to keep our electric use down, but Daddy said it would be a good idea to set up fans in both rooms to pull the hot air out for the kids’ sake.”

She reaches out to take the bag with the foil-covered supper plates. “Mr. Grimes did say y’all would bring up food for him and his wife. I’ll carry these up. I took them up a pitcher of water earlier, and Beth made Carl some cream of chicken soup. He drank it all and kept it down, no problem.”

When they get to the top of the stairs, Maggie points out the door now open across the hall from Carl’s room. “That’s my room. Go ahead and put your things in. I already took what I needed for the night down to Beth’s room.”

Ellie thanks her quietly, stepping into the room and easing Merry down on her belly on the bed while she unhooks the baby’s diaper bag from her shoulder and sits it in a chair at the small desk. Shane drops the bags of clothing at the foot of the bed, before he expands the playpen and sits it beside the full-sized bed. He scoops up the baby, even as Ellie smiles at his initiative and heads across the hall with the bag of additional medical supplies she brought up.

“Hey, Carl. You’re looking about as tired as I feel,” Ellie says, adding her supply bag to the one already in the room, both tucked out of the walkway. She fishes out a premade IV bag labeled with one of the antibiotic names she reeled off earlier to Rick, along with another bag of saline. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I really gotta pee.” Carl’s honest statement makes the adults in the room all smile.

“IVs can do that to you. How about we let your dad carry you down to the bathroom and get that taken care of before I poke around and make you wet the bed?” She disconnects the nearly empty bag of saline and caps off the IV where it’s in Carl’s hand.

“Eww. I’m not a baby.” Carl sets his book aside, obviously intent on the bathroom trip.

Rick gets to his feet from where he’s sitting on the cot against the wall. “Anything I need to do other than carry him down there?”

“Just make sure he doesn’t fall into anything.” She steps back to let Rick carry Carl out of the room, checking the bed and the medical padding Carl was laying on before nodding to herself and making notes. “Has he asked for any pain meds, Patricia?”

The older blonde shakes her head. “He’s been pretty content with that book you sent up. Napped for about an hour right after you left.”

“Alright. I’ll let you get back to your family. I’ll set my alarm to check on him in the night, but I don’t think we really need you or Maggie to be on hand.”

Patricia stands, tucking away the mending she had in her hands in her bag. “Otis and me, we’re up in the attic room, if you need me, and Maggie will be right down the hall. Bathroom’s between her and Beth’s room, through the connecting doors. Hershel’s on the opposite side of the hall from Beth.”

As Patricia leaves, Maggie starts to follow and then stops. “I figured you might want a shower after surgery and all. Wasn’t sure how y’all were set up for water in the camp, so I put a bunch of extra towels in the bathroom. Hot water’s on propane, so it won’t set Daddy to grumbling about electric use.”

Ellie blinks a little. Shane knows she washed up a bit at camp, because she changed her shirt and came back from that with her auburn hair damp around her face. “That would actually be lovely. Thank you.”

Maggie smiles and leaves the three of them to look at each other. Shane can’t help but feel grateful that whatever grudge Lori held when Rick first returned dissipated between Rick’s illness and his own careful distance from her. When she looks at him with no antagonism for the first time in a while, he feels hopeful for the first time that their not-so-secret affair will not ruin everything for them both. He ignores the little surge of guilt that neither of them have told Rick.

“He’s really going to be okay, isn’t he?” Lori asks, looking between him and Ellie.

“He’s a healthy boy, Lori, and we’re a lot better prepared to handle this than we would have been back at the quarry. You’ll be trying to track him all over hell’s half acre in no time.”

Lori laughs at Ellie’s description. “Hopefully, that will be measured in weeks and not days.”

“We could rig up a toddler leash. Keep him tied to your waist.”

Ellie’s words conjure a mental image for Shane of Lori being towed around by her twelve-year-old son, and he can’t help laughing. It sends both women and the baby over the edge too, so that when Rick returns to the room, he and Carl take a moment to try to figure out what’s so hilarious.

“You probably don’t want to know, brother,” Shane tells him as he lowers Carl back to the bed.

“Tomorrow, I get to walk, right, Ellie?” Carl interrupts, looking grumpy. Shane figures he’s not pleased by either being carried or supervised while taking a leak.

“First thing in the morning, yep. If you can make trips to the bathroom and back without falling over during the morning, we’ll work up to maybe spending some time out on the porch after lunch, too.”

Ellie busies herself with hooking up the IV lines again, explaining the antibiotic to Carl. She offers him three tablets, one from the bag Rick brought and the others from bottles already in the room. “Antibiotic, nausea med, and Tylenol. I’m going to give you a dose of med in the catheter to go along with the Tylenol.”

Carl nods, swallowing down the tablets without any argument. It’s preferable to the battles they used to have to get Carl to take medication of any kind. Boy even argued about chewable vitamins. Once Ellie’s settled the meds, she glances at her watch. 

“By the time I shower and get Merry settled for the night, we should be able to take down the IV bags. I’m going to be checking in on him every four hours, rather than disturb him hourly for vitals, but if anything changes while I am asleep, wake me immediately.” She ruffles Carl’s hair, smiling when he doesn’t duck away. “As for you, buddy, you’re going to help me order your mom and dad to get some sleep, too, right?”

Carl turns a properly stern visage on his parents. “That’s why you have a cot,” he informs them solemnly. “But I don’t think you’ll both fit.”

Rick laughs. “We’ll take turns at sleeping.”

Ellie takes Merry when she leaves, mentioning the baby likes showers.

“Y’all need anything?” Shane asks, watching as Rick and Lori finally peel back the foil on their supper plates. “I’ve got a bag with clothes for you both in the other room.”

“I think we’re fine for now,” Rick says between bites. “Everything still good in camp?”

Shane catches him up on the rather brief time he missed after coming back to the house before offering Carl a fist bump. “I’m gonna go nap, so I can alternate with you, Rick.”

His best friend gives him a grateful smile. “I’ll wake you around one, maybe?”

Six hours is plenty, so Shane agrees, heading back across the hall to Maggie’s room and eyeing the bed. The shower’s running in the bathroom, so he figures Ellie got herself and the baby squared away. He shuts the door while he changes, not wanting to start a ruckus with Hershel if the teenage girl wanders down the hall in the meantime. Like Ellie, he washed up down at camp, best as he could with a basin of water, and changed his sweat-soaked shirt. He leaves it on and pulls on a pair of shorts before reopening the door to let the breeze of the fans draw the air across the two rooms again. 

He stretches out on his side with the sheet and bedspread pushed down to the foot. It’s too damned hot for covers. The stress of the day, between the walker herd, chasing the kids through the woods, and Carl’s injury has wrung him dry on energy. He’s asleep even before Ellie returns with the baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part of the chapter ran a lot longer than I meant, so it's not very high on action, but to completely finish it off would run way longer than I prefer for chapter size. So I'll have a part two out eventually.
> 
> Medical footnote: on an antibiotic status, Ellie's aggressive with all of them, thus why she's kind of ignored a few categories of antibiotics. If you ever read up on the diseases deer can carry that _are_ able to infect humans, it's just ugh. One of them is the plague, and I'm gonna pretend chronic wasting disease doesn't exist. o.O 
> 
> Daryl's overprotectiveness versus Merle's letting Ellie lead as she chooses will be explained... eventually, but not this chapter. ;)


	16. Assumptions, 2 of 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waking in the night to take care of Merry and Carl leads Shane to finally ask Ellie what is going on between them.

**July 18, 2010**

Shane wakes earlier than intended to take over their little night watch from Rick. The sensation of sleeping against a much softer body than his own is a foreign one. It’s been more than a year since he shared a bed with anyone. His thing with Lori definitely didn’t include sleeping at her side, not with Carl in the dark about their relationship.

At some point after Ellie came to bed, he rolled to his back. He wonders who gravitated to who, but decides he doesn’t care. It ought to be too hot for this, although the temperature let up somewhat with nightfall. The gentle movements of air spread by the fan does keep them being entwined from being unbearable.

Instead, he lays quietly, enjoying the sensation of her breath against his chest, where her head is tucked into his shoulder, using him as her pillow. She’s almost rolled to her stomach, one leg thrown across one of his, with her foot tucked behind his opposite calf. Her arm is across his torso, hand cupped along the ridge of his hip. His hand on the side she’s not pillowed against is resting across her forearm on his stomach. The other hand is against the small of her back, flat against skin laid bare by her shirt riding up in her sleep.

A quiet sound from the playpen alerts him to what probably woke him. There’s a night light in the room, some solar thing he’s seen Ellie with before back at the state park. It looks like a miniature mason jar, but the pink glass casts a pale light across the playpen. He adjusts position enough to hopefully not wake Ellie, and then he can see that Merry’s playing with her feet in the dark.

Shane isn’t entirely sure he should wake Ellie yet. If Merry’s not actually fussing, she might go back to sleep. He honestly can’t remember at what point that babies sleep all night without needing to eat.

Ten minutes pass with Merry talking softly to herself. Shane just smiles to himself, wondering exactly what goes through her head in these little conversations. When the sounds change from content to slightly whiny, he nudges Ellie a little, shaking her elbow.

He’s half-afraid she is going to recoil when she realizes she’s turned him into a human shaped body pillow. Obviously she didn’t mind sharing the bed with him, but this isn’t just being pragmatic. She could be mistaking him for Isaac in her unguarded state.

“Shane?” That solves one mystery. She knows it’s him as her pillow at least. “Is Merry awake?”

“Yeah. Last ten minutes.” It’s an admission of sorts, that he’s been lying here aware of how close they’re lying. But she hasn’t tensed up or even pulled away.

In fact, she yawns against his collarbone before giving his hip a squeeze. Merry changes pitch now that she’s heard voices, so Ellie pushes up using one hand in the center of his chest. She crawls over to where the playpen is pushed against her side of the bed, soothing the baby for a moment with chatter about soggy bottoms before she lifts Merry into the bed. It gives him a good view of pale, well-toned thighs below the 2-in-1 running shorts he’s only ever seen serious cross country runners wear. 

The diaper is changed efficiently as he watches, the grumpy baby face clearing as Merry spots him and reaches out to grab at his fingers. Ellie shifts to sit cross-legged, unclipping the tank top she’s wearing at the shoulder strap to reveal it’s some sort of multi-purpose nursing bra as she settles Merry in place. 

He eases onto his side to give her a bit more room on the bed, reaching out to rub his knuckles along Merry’s back.

“I forgot to warn you that I’m a bit of a clingy sleeper, didn’t I?” she says softly.

“I don’t mind.” He truly didn’t. Even with the heat, all he felt was contentment. “I kind of fell asleep early.”

Ellie laughs softly. “Yeah, you did. It was a long day for everyone.”

“I’m guessing Carl settled for the night after I fell asleep?” He’s actually not surprised he fell asleep the way he did. Years of snatching sleep on a deputy’s schedule trained him to sleep when and how he could.

“Yeah. He was asleep by eight. Everything still looked good when I checked last.” She looks at the little clock on Maggie’s dresser. “Merry has good timing, since I needed to be up in half an hour to check on him again.”

“I can go check, if you want me to? You just need vitals, right?”

“If I wasn’t so awake already, I might send you, but I might as well check in. Figure all of y’all will be better reassured if I do it.”

“He’s gonna bounce back from this, isn’t he?” he asks softly. It’s a worry in the back of his mind now, after Rick’s coma. Granted, Rick never regained consciousness after losing it on the roadside that day, so the comparison is not an apt one.

“The signs are good for it.” She reaches out to rub a gentle hand along his side and hip, and he fights the urge to close his eyes under the simple touch. “I’ve seen kids come back from things unimaginable, Shane. Their very durability is why humans didn’t run extinct back before modern technology.”

“Carl said you worked surgery, before.” As many times as he’s seen the boy underfoot around Ellie, he never guessed how much personal information might be shared.

“For a good portion of my career, I did. I switched specialities when I found out I was pregnant with Merry. The kind of hours working as a surgical nurse, especially with surgeons that don’t mind nurses standing in for interns or residents, are not compatible with being a single mom. I had Daryl and Merle, but it wasn’t their job to be raising Sadie and Merry for me.”

“I can understand that.” Even in two parent families like Rick and Lori had, crazy work hours take a toll. He figures two-thirds of the trouble in the Grimes’ marriage before Rick was shot were due to the rotating shifts the deputies worked. Lori admitted to him, in the dark hours spent sitting at her kitchen table when Rick was first shot, that she always felt more single mom than part of a team.

If Rick worked at the bank, like his dad? Shane doubts they would have been teetering on the brink of divorce for the past year.

“Decided to focus on family practice. Much better hours.” She glances over her shoulder where the other doorway can be vaguely seen in the darkened house. “No patching children back together after gunshot wounds.”

There’s a quiver in her voice that makes him reach out and catch the hand that’s been soothing him, gripping her fingers and squeezing lightly. “Like you said, he’s gonna bounce back, and he wouldn’t be doing so good without you here.” Maybe the vet would have pulled off a miracle, but Shane doesn’t want to imagine the terror of sitting in that hallway, waiting for word, without Ellie’s comforting confidence being a part of it.

She squeezes his hand back, but doesn’t let go, so he leaves their hands linked. It’s an easy silence they fall into, punctuated by the sound of the hungry baby. 

Shane watches curiously as she shifts the baby from one breast to the other. She catches him and smiles. “I don’t bite if you ask questions.”

“You don’t shift her back and forth during the day.”

“She’s too distracted right now to nurse for long during the day, so I try to make up for it on the evening and night feedings.”

He thinks it over, picturing how Merry’s bright eyes are always seeking out everything around her and taking it in. “She’s doing good though? Growing like she’s supposed to?”

“If we go by the old charts and measurements, yeah. She’s measuring in at about fiftieth percentile on everything.” Ellie grins impishly. “We’ve been weighing her with Daryl’s fish scale hooked through the straps on those little overall shorts she has. She thinks it’s hilarious to dangle around off it.”

Shane smothers a laugh. “Bit of a carnival ride for someone her size, I guess.”

“Probably so. She was fourteen pounds when I weighed her right before we left the state park. Logged that for four months since I wasn’t sure how long we would be on the road.”

“When exactly is her birthday?” All he’s had until now was guesswork from the baby’s size and things Sadie’s said in passing.

“March seventeenth, so she’s a full four months now. With her starting solids a bit early, she may put on more weight from now on.”

Shane grins. “I may have made a deal with her about those peas she seems to like so much.”

“Oh?” His amusement seems to be contagious.

“Yeah. Told her earlier when I changed a diaper I would talk you into sweet potatoes if she would spit out the peas.”

Ellie laughs, keeping it quiet. “They do make for spectacular diaper changes, compared to before.”

“More signs that those green peas are awful things.”

“Let me guess? You don’t like English peas?”

“Hell no. Don’t mind field peas, but those green ones are just gross bits of mush, and she’s getting the worst of them with the puree.”

“You have a pretty strong opinion on baby food.” Ellie is definitely laughing at him now, but he doesn’t mind. It’s a silly discussion, but it’s so much better than all the other things he has to keep track of these days.

“Someone’s gotta defend her taste buds. You’re her mama. It’s your job to make her eat her vegetables, but peas? Why not carrots or sweet potatoes or even squash? That comes in baby food, right?”

Ellie’s smile shifts and she runs her thumb across the back of his hand. “Tell you what. If you want her to eat a different vegetable, you’re welcome to try to stuff her little chipmunk cheeks tomorrow.”

“Really?” He’s been Merry’s high chair for Sadie to chase spoonfuls of food into her mouth before, but he didn’t try to actually feed her.

“Yep. There’s probably a jar of sweet potatoes in the bag.”

“You’re looking too amused by the idea.”

“Well, you’re also cleaning her up after you feed her.”

Ah. There’s the kicker. “I’m sure we’ll survive that part.”

Ellie just smiles, letting go of his hand as Merry’s small head lolls back as she dozes off. She refastens her top.

“Hand her here, and I’ll get her settled while you check on Carl.”

She rolls the baby gently onto his chest, rubbing a hand down Merry’s back. “She might not need to be burped. She’s about outgrown that stage, I think.”

“Alright. Tell Rick I’m awake if he wants to get some sleep.”

Shane doesn’t move to put Merry back in the playpen right away, not even after Ellie heads across the hall. The warm weight of the sleeping baby on his chest makes something uncurl inside of him he can’t describe. He can hear quiet conversation, indistinct, but no one seems concerned. Movement in the hall shows Rick and Carl on the way to the bathroom, but soft voices continue. Lori must be awake, too.

When Rick and Carl return, Shane gets up and rounds the bed to lay Merry down. She sprawls bonelessly on her back, her fluff of silky brown hair sticking up every which way. There’s no blanket in the playpen, so he figures she doesn’t need anything in the heat. He takes a quiet trip to the bathroom himself, since he’s up.

By the time he’s back in the bedroom, Ellie’s back, starfished across the bed on her stomach. He nudges her shoulder. “All good with Carl?”

“Yeah. Gave him a top-up on pain meds, but everything else is normal.” She rolls to her side. “You bring anything to read or whatever while you make sure these folks aren’t some sort of crazy hillbillies?”

Shane grins and pulls a paperback out of the outside pocket of his bag, along with a book light. He often read in the quiet of his tent if he couldn’t sleep, but he doubts few in their group caught on to it. “If it won’t bother you.”

“I could sleep in a brightly lit room. That little thing is nothing.”

He doesn’t move to sit and open the book yet, looking at her slim form on the bed, as if this were an every night thing between them. Sleeping draped across him is one thing. People tend to seek out others then. But since they woke curled into each other, their touching has been deliberate.

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?” she mumbles. 

“What are we doing here?” They’ve been flirting, he knows, almost from the time he realized she wasn’t married after Rick came back alive, but she’s a police widow. He isn’t looking for a repeat of being someone’s substitute, because there’s a part of him that still feels like it got dragged over broken glass.

That must come across in his voice, because she reaches out to tug his hand. “C’mere and lay down with me.”

Sitting the book and light on the nightstand, he lays down facing her. This close, he can see the dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. “What are we doing, Ellie?” he asks again.

Her hand is warm as she cups it against the side of his neck. “I’m waiting to see if you’re over Lori yet.”

He already knew, more or less, that she was aware of his affair with Lori, after the day in the RV when Rick made the comment about Ellie seeing more of his bare backside than his wife. He’s fairly sure everyone older than Carl is aware, and when he’s really honest with himself, Shane knows Rick is too. Just because they haven’t spoken the words to each other, his best friend is not that damned naive.

The moment reminds him of being in the trunk with her today. She reached out to comfort and draw comfort just like this. He’s honest when he speaks.

“I wasn’t in love with Lori.” Maybe eventually he could have been, if more time passed, and what they had became something that wasn’t a dirty little secret. That kind of thing is fine for a weekend or a short fling, but it does not build a family, and it’s why guilt clouds everything between him and Lori as if it were a true affair instead of an accidental one.

She smiles ever so slightly. “I figured as much. Close your eyes for a minute.”

Shane trusts her enough to see where she’s going with it. As soon as he can’t see her, she brings her other hand up and cups his face, fingers cradling the back of his skull in a way that is both tender and almost painfully erotic at the same time. But despite feeling her breath on his lips and the sensation of an almost-kiss, when her lips do contact his skin, it’s against his closed eyelids.

Ellie doesn’t stop there, peppering feathery kisses along his face to the point he’s nearly hyperventilating from the sweet dedication of her mapping out his features. There’s an intensity building here that he doesn’t have a fucking clue how to deal with, and his breathing comes in uneven little bursts. What she’s doing isn’t about sex, not as he knows how to define it. It’s almost hypnotic, as she builds the anticipation with each press of soft lips against skin.

When he can sense she’s near his lips again, he throws caution to the wind, closing the gap to kiss her. He needs to know what it will be like, more than he’s ever needed anything from another person. How does she taste, smell, feel? Her lips part readily, and she’s the one who deepens the kiss, tongue seeking his without hesitation. He maps her hip with one hand, sliding it under her shirt and marveling at the silky soft skin of her back when he hauls her close.

She tastes of cinnamon, and when he opens his eyes at last, Shane sees thickly lashed blue eyes. She watches him as she takes in just enough air to recapture him, tasting him with a soft yearning sound that makes him respond with a sound closer to a whine than he wants to admit. The significance of her focus on watching him pulls at the loneliness that’s been an unavoidable ache since he knew he had to give up the taste of being part of a whole when Rick returned. 

Ellie isn’t imagining he’s anyone other than _Shane_.

She smells like Irish Spring soap, overlaid with a sweet scent that his brain can’t quite classify. He swipes his tongue against the fluttering pulse in her throat, tasting a hint of salt where the summer’s heat is erasing the artificial cleanliness of the soap from her shower. She damn near short circuits his brain when she slides her leg between his and presses close, rolling him to his back and her weight a sweet tease on top of him.

The sound of the toilet flushing brings them both back to the reality of where they are.

Ellie, the minx, giggles and doesn’t make any move to disentangle from him. He sees nothing but exuberance in her expression, the crystalline blue of her eyes reduced to a ring around pupils blown wide. This is the best damn thing he’s felt in years that didn’t involve an orgasm. 

“Christ, Ellie,” he says, but he can’t help the slow smile that spreads across his features. “We forgot the door’s open.” It’s just the one to the hall, not the other one leading into the bathroom, but it still means anyone could see them making out like two teenagers.

“I would say go take care of that, but then we would be failing on our watch duties.”

Shane strokes his fingers up her spine under her shirt, revelling at the way it makes her body respond. There’s a moment of reality that flickers in, remembering the scars he’s seen fully exposed on Merle’s back and glimpsed on Daryl’s. It sobers him a little, as gratitude seeps in that her skin seems free of the damage the other two bear.

The kiss that follows isn’t as heated as the first, both of them more cognisant of the open door and restless household around them. But she still tastes of cinnamon and seeks him with confidence.

“How long?” he asks softly. How long has she been waiting for him to stop chasing and then mourning a foolishness he cannot have?

She doesn’t mistake the question as about the future, using gentle pressure on his chest with her forearm to raise up to smile down at him. “The hospital. That’s when I decided you were more than just a good man I could trust around my girls.”

Shane thinks back to that visit with her calming presence next to him, reassuring him that he did not abandon his brother to certain death. He remembers her fingers in his, an anchor in the nightmares that room held for him.

“Why there?”

“Because you know what it’s like to feel someone you love slip through your fingers. How it breaks everything essential inside you until you grasp at anything to stay above water.” 

“Rick’s not really gone, though.”

“Doesn’t matter. Will you ever forget what it felt like that day, standing next to his bed?” 

He shakes his head, answering mutely. 

She uses her free hand to stroke fingers along his jaw, seeming to have gone as mute as him. She rolls to lie beside him, but keeps herself cradled against him.

“I know you aren’t Isaac,” she says. It’s unexpected enough to startle him. “I don’t want you to be.”

What does he say to that? He doesn’t know, so he grasps for information. “What was he like?”

“Never met a single stranger ever in his life. Compassionate to a fault… fearless. Hadn’t been a cop long enough to lose the bright enthusiasm of protect and serve. Hell, I’m actually surprised the papers didn’t list that he was a rookie, since he was only six months off training when he died.” He feels her shift, and she reaches to slide her fingers into his. “Glenn reminds me of him, in a lot of ways.”

That explains her protective nature toward the young man, Shane supposes.

“He was my best friend’s younger brother, so I literally watched him grow up from Carl’s age.”

“What happened to your friend?” For Ellie to have custody of Sadie, he wonders if it’s further tragedy for the teenager, who has already lost both parents and a brother.

“Somewhere in the Pacific when communications shut down. She was in the navy. Could still be alive, but we may never know for sure.”

He raises their linked hands to kiss gently at her pulse point. “As recent events have taught me, miracles do still happen even when they seem impossible.”

She raises up from where she’s using him as a pillow and smiles before seeking a kiss. “Yeah, sometimes they do.”

Shane likes the thought of being part of a new kind of miracle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It still feels almost incomplete, but I also think it will take them a while to explore the complexity of what will always be a ghost in their relationship. Where Shane had it easy with Lori's "widowhood", because he loved Rick, too, this is a very different challenge of understanding what came before.


	17. Something Odd Going On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An invitation to breakfast with the Greene family puts Shane on alert that something is off with the farm family.

**July 19, 2010**

After Ellie was up at four to check on Carl again, Shane is a little surprised that she wakes at six until he hears Merry moving. Where the baby lay on her back last night, playing with her feet, this time she makes little grunting sounds until she succeeds in rolling over to her tummy. He sets aside his book, which he's nearly finished, and Ellie moves the arm she's slung across his thighs to let him get up.

He visits the bathroom and comes back to snag Merry out of the playpen. Changing her diaper, he passes her to Ellie, who is still curled up drowsily where he left her. As soon as Merry is settled to nurse, he sneaks in a kiss to see if last night's make out session was a fluke.

It wasn't, and he remains crouched by the bed for a few minutes, enjoying Ellie's willingness to stroke one hand along his neck and jaw. A cough from across the hall drags his attention away.

"Gonna go see how Carl is this morning." It's a unique experience, feeling torn between checking on Rick's family and wanting to stay with Ellie a6md the baby.

Ellie nods, covering a yawn. "Make sure Rick doesn't go far. I need to test his blood this morning, too."

Shane takes the time to get dressed, wanting to be prepared for the day. A look out the window shows him that there's movement in their camp. Carol and Glenn are up, and Daryl's on watch on top of the RV. Reassured about the rest of the group, he heads across the hall.

Carl's stirring when he enters, and a tired Lori reaches for her son's hand. Rick is asleep on the cot, rolled with his back to the wall. Shane imagines he fell asleep watching Carl.

Once mother and son have traded greetings and Lori's confirmed Carl isn't in any concerning amount of pain, Shane ventures to speak to Lori.

"Most of the Greenes are downstairs or outside, if you wanted to get a shower in. Maggie put some more towels out, she said. I can sit with Carl, and Ellie will be over soon.

He's not sure why the farm girl told him instead of Lori, but maybe it was just that she needed to retrieve something she forgot from her room. Although he expects one of the angry, frustrated looks Lori's been giving him, she just nods.

"A shower sounds nice. Is Ellie awake?" Lori shuffles to her feet, looking for the bag of hers and Rick's things.

"She's feeding Merry." Shane helps Carl adjust his pillows so he can sit more upright. "Looked like Carol and Glenn were starting on breakfast, so I'll run down there and get food once you're back."

"Do I get to eat this morning?" Carl asks as his stomach rumbles.

"Ellie said you could, but we'll ask her when she pops over."

Lori heads down the hall. Shane looks for Carl's book on the nightstand and offers it to the boy to keep him sidetracked from breakfast. Carl begins to review the anatomy in the textbook, asking Shane to quiz him. They keep it quiet to let Rick sleep.

Beth appears at the door before Ellie, smiling brightly. "Patricia wanted to offer everyone breakfast, now that morning chores are done. Eggs, country ham, biscuits, and gravy."

"I get the feeling that might be a little heavy for Carl here," Shane says regretfully.

"For today, definitely," Ellie says from behind Beth. She's smiling warmly at the girl, though. "We need to wait and see how his body reacts to the gallbladder removal, so we're going to need to avoid fat, spice, dairy, and anything fried until he's healed a little more."

Carl sighs, but he doesn't protest, which surprises Shane. He wonders if Ellie already mentioned it to the boy.

"Like a heart healthy diet?" Beth asks, looking sympathetic toward Carl's breakfast predicament.

"More or less."

"We covered that in our consumer services class at school. Could he have an egg white omelette?"

"That should be fine."

"I'll tell Patricia. I have a basket of eggs for your camp, and she was slicing up the ham to share."

"That's very generous of your family. Could we get a single hardboiled egg for Merry also?"

Beth just nods and smiles shyly and ventures back downstairs. Ellie comes to the left side of the bed and lets Merry perch on the bed next to Carl while she takes his vitals. The baby curls up next to Carl, content to stare at Shane on the opposite side of the bed. Carl seems enchanted by her, holding her close with his unencumbered arm.

"How's the pain this morning?" she asks, motioning for Shane to pass her the notebook they're recording everything in.

"Starting to get a little bad. Maybe a four. And I really need to pee when Mom gets done."

Ellie smiles and reaches for one of the bottles. She passes Carl the pain pill and a cup of water from the pitcher. His antibiotics follow, along with a nausea tablet. "Let's be proactive on that one since you'll be eating a little more."

She motions for Shane to switch sides of the bed with her. He cups a hand against Merry's belly so she can't shift unexpectedly against Carl. He hides a grin when Carl actually tightens his arm around the baby when it seems like Shane might take her.

"Incision looks really good. We'll do a dose of anesthetic now and then assess later if the pills are good enough once you start moving around."

Carl's face lights up at the emphasized idea of him getting out of bed. "What about the IV things?"

"The IV catheters we will leave in for another day, just in case." Ellie finishes the anesthetic dose and caps the syringe before tossing it in the waste basket. She tilts her head, listening to something. "Shower shut off. When Lori is back, I want you to escort Carl to the bathroom, Shane. But let him walk. Be right back."

Ellie returns with a small pillow. "Patricia gave me some polyfill and supplies to make a pillow for Carl last night. Hold it against the incision when you walk to keep just enough pressure to ease things along. Good for if you want to laugh or cough too."

Carl takes the pillow and presses it experimentally to his wounded side. "That kinda feels better in general."

"Good. Alright, Shane, pass me the pipsqueak."

Shane lifts Merry, whose little legs kick lile she's running a race, and passes her to Ellie just as Lori returns. Carl's bathroom trip becomes more urgent, so Shane helps him to his feet under Ellie's guidance. The trip doesn't take long, with Carl managing everything for himself. When they get back to the room, Ellie is just finishing with updating Lori and a sleepy faced Rick.

She returns Merry to him and asks that he go alert the camp they're skipping breakfast to eat with the Greenes while Ellie does the morning bloodwork for Carl and Rick.

By the time he returns, after finding the camp is aware thanks to Otis delivering eggs and ham, everyone is sitting at the table, even Carl. The boy looks far too cheerful considering the circumstances, but Shane supposes it's delight in not being confined to bed.

As he passes Merry to her mother at the dining table, he catches Hershel's critical eyes on the gun in his holster. 

"I would prefer your people not go armed while on my property," Hershel says without preamble. 

Shane stifles his first reaction, which is a resounding 'Hell no, old man.' Ellie said being on the road isn't best for Carl. He notices that Rick isn't armed, but Ellie is wearing an overshirt that hides her shoulder holster from anyone less trained to look for one than he is.

"You ask all law enforcement to remove their weapons on your property?" Ellie asks, tone milder than her stern expression merits.

Shane pauses, hands on the back of the chair next to Ellie, waiting on the answer.

"We've never asked a cop to remove his weapon, have we, Daddy?" It's Maggie who answers. She looks unsettled, compared to the rest, including Otis, who's attention is glued on Carl.

Hershel shakes his head reluctantly. He's scanning Shane for whatever it is he thinks makes him a cop. "What department did you work for, son?"

"King County Sheriff's Department. Me and Rick both." Since Ellie turns her attention to her plate and mushing an egg yolk to a runny mess, he takes his seat.

That signals Hershel's manners to lead a blessing, allowing his patient family and guests to eat. The old man doesn't turn to his food right away.

"It would be unreasonable to ask you and your partner to disarm, but I would prefer that the rest are not carrying firearms."

Shane thinks it over for a minute, considering a compromise. "I'll ask everyone to put away individual weapons unless they're leaving on a supply or scouting run. But we keep a watch, and that person needs to be armed."

The old man thinks it over and finally nods. "That is acceptable."

"What about crossbows?" Ellie asks. "We hunt with those." Shane remembers Daryl left his outside when they brought Carl into the house.

"Those are fine, as long as they are not brought into my home itself."

Ellie favors the man with a bland smile as she dips her finger in the muck she's made of the egg yolk and lets Merry suck on the digit. The baby goes a bit cross-eyed, licking at her lips, but she doesn't refuse the next eggy fingertip.

"I thought babies weren't supposed to eat eggs," Patricia says, watching the process with interest.

"Theory used to be to avoid allergens until a baby was at least a year, but studies are now showing that starting them between four and six months is best." Ellie dips Merry's fingers in the egg yolk next, letting the baby navigate her hand to her mouth. "There were never as many allergies before the medical profession got overly cautious about feeding babies solids."

"You were a pediatric nurse in Atlanta?" Maggie asks, taking a bite of jam-slathered biscuit. There's still something off about her body language.

Ellie nods, and Shane turns to finishing his meal diligently to see if he can take Merry and let her eat. "At the children's hospital my entire career."

"What did they say, about the virus, when this all began? Surely, they knew better than the public." Maggie seems very intent on not looking at her father. Shane catches Patricia in a maneuver that looks like she's just pinched Maggie under the table, but the brunette doesn't flinch.

"I was on maternity leave when people started getting sick, but colleagues did stay in touch. They wanted to make sure I stayed as isolated as possible, since there was no cure once someone got sick."

"Surely our government can manage a cure, with all their resources." Hershel's voice holds a note that Shane wants to call beligerant. 

"I doubt there's enough government structure left to make any progress toward a vaccine, much less a cure. That kind of research takes years and resources no longer available. You can't fix the decay those walking after death experience, and to be honest, it would be horrific and cruel to try, because the virus causes brain death." 

Shane scans the faces as Ellie's words sink in. Hershel looks defiant, maybe even a little angry. Beth looks stricken, and Patricia's touch to the younger Greene girl is comforting as the older blonde looks uneasy. Otis seems like he didn't hear it at all, but Maggie? She shivers, laying her fork beside her plate.

"How certain of that are you?" Maggie is staring at her father now, not watching Ellie at all. She's pissed, and so is Hershel, but he doesn't interrupt his daughter. "That they're brain dead?"

"Completely and without a doubt. They scanned brains between death and reanimation, no brain activity returns but the brain stem itself. The brain function is similar to a persistent vegetative state, but worse. I heard it from people at Emory and at Children's."

That's news to Shane, that Ellie's aware of brain scans. It reminds him of her warning him away from trying the CDC back at the quarry. He supposes if he had contacts at a major teaching hospital, he would have asked, too.

"What proof do you have?" Hershel asks, sounding agitated. He's laid his fork down, too, hands gripping the edge of the table.

"If you're asking if I'm carrying around MRI recordings, no, I'm not. But I trust my colleagues had enough training to comprehend the difference between a live brain and one beyond all hope, Dr. Greene. They would never have been allowed to advise people on life support decisions otherwise."

There's a bite to Ellie's reply that reminds Shane of the way she railed at the old man to get away from Carl. The nurse doesn't like Hershel, and it's only barely hidden, and he wonders if it's something deeper than him working on Carl without anesthetic.

Shane speaks up. "From a law enforcement standpoint, we were told only a headshot kills. Some of the scenes we saw, where what was left of what used to be a person kept going…" He stops, not wanting to frighten the children present. Beth looks near tears.

"Excuse me." Maggie pushes away from the table and heads for the back door. She lets the wooden framed screen door slam hard behind her.

Hershel watches the door for a moment, but doesn't comment on her departure. "We shouldn't let good food go to waste."

They eat in silence, but Carl soon distracts Beth with a compliment about his omelette. The blonde gives him a ghost of a smile, and it shifts the somber mood left at the table long enough for quiet conversation about their destination and for Shane to offer some supply trades.

There's something odd going on in the Greene family, and Shane can't figure it out yet. He wonders if it has something to do with the missing family members pictured in the living room photographs who aren't present. Whatever it is, it is a source of conflict between Maggie and Hershel.

He just hopes it doesn't boil over onto his people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figure Maggie, with her exposure to the outside world, would be bold enough to ask questions once she had someone with a medical background handy. She didn't believe a cure would be found in the show.
> 
> This won't follow the shoot up at the barn storyline... It's going for another path to resolve the walkers in the barn problem.


	18. Emotional Damage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maggie Greene takes the problem of the walkers in the family's barn into her own hands, leading to a confrontation with her father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a rough chapter, folks. All that righteous anger Hershel directed at Shane in the show about the barn? 
> 
> It gets aimed at Maggie instead.

July 19, 2010

Shane’s half under the cargo truck, helping Merle fix a brake line that must have caught on some sharper debris on the way here, when he hears Glenn’s alarmed voice.

“Hey, Shane? Everybody? Something really weird is going on with one of the Greene girls.”

He slides out from under the big vehicle, while Merle goes out the other side. He rubs his oily hands on his stained cargo pants, looking where Glenn is pointing from his spot on watch. Sweat from the July heat trickles down his spine under his old black T-shirt.

In the distance, halfway to a barn they’ve been asked to stay away from, Maggie Greene is holding a heated argument with Otis. She’s holding a shotgun in one hand and has what looks like an ammo bag slung over her shoulder. Otis reaches out to put a hand as if he’s going to take the gun, and Maggie nails him right in the nuts with the butt of the shotgun. Shane figures he isn’t the only watcher who flinches from how hard the tall, out of shape man hits the ground in the fetal position.

The young woman stalks off, climbing a ladder to access the hayloft and disappearing inside the barn’s upper level. It’s hard to tell from here, but it looks like the barn’s doors are chained shut.

Shane exchanges a puzzled look with Merle, who shrugs.

“Whatever the farm girl is up to, that shotgun ain’t got the range to be dangerous to us. Hershel’s man definitely didn’t enjoy arguing with her about whatever it is.”

Otis is just making it to his knees when the shotgun begins blasting away. Four shots ring out in succession before the noise fades. The overweight man stumbles as best he can toward the farmhouse, not toward the barn, so he’s obviously given up on convincing Maggie and running for her father instead.

“Must hold four,” Shane muses, wondering what on earth Maggie’s shooting at inside the barn. It could be target practice, he supposes, but he isn’t sure why anyone would do that inside an old barn.

Then the significance of the questions Maggie asked at breakfast hit him. 

“Holy shit. There’s walkers in the barn.”

He watches as Merle takes an involuntary step toward where Shane knows he left his Browning. The former Marine’s hands go to where the holster normally rests, fingers clenching when there’s nothing there. “You sure about that?” 

“Maggie asked Ellie about what her old colleagues knew of the virus and reanimation at breakfast. She and her father looked like they might come to blows over it. There’s at least two family members missing, from what I saw of the family photos.”

As the shotgun begins firing again, people burst out of the Greene farmhouse. Shane can spot Hershel’s shock of white hair even from here, even though his form would be equally identifiable from a distance due to the starched white dress shirt and suspenders. Hershel pauses only to question Otis, looking toward where all the visitors are just watching. Otis, still unable to stand upright, motions toward the barn. Hershel makes it to the ladder as a third series of shots begins.

Shane starts forward when the two Greenes reappear on the platform near the ladder, screaming at each other. A fight that high up might be fatal for father and daughter, and he doesn’t know them well enough to assume this won’t escalate to a domestic if Maggie’s just done what he thinks she has. He sets off at a run, with Merle hot on his heels. 

From the Greene farmhouse, he sees Ellie and Rick emerge, although they don’t pass where Patricia, Beth, and Otis are clustered near the gate into the field where the barn resides. Rick is questioning Patricia and Otis with the urgency he usually reserves for urgent police work.

“What’s going on?” Shane barks out as he draws within range.

Rick looks stunned. “Hershel’s keeping walkers in the barn. Family, friends, neighbors. Seems Maggie decided to euthanize them without telling him.”

“Jesus Christ.” As much as he already deduced that, the idea makes Shane’s blood run cold. Most of their people spent the night within sight of that barn with only the protection of canvas tent walls. He puts on a burst of speed to reach the barn, where Maggie and Hershel are still screaming at each other.

As he climbs the ladder, he can hear how far the fight has devolved, and he reaches the top when the type of words that end family relationships are uttered.

“You aren’t welcome here anymore, Maggie. Pack your things.”

Getting to the top of the ladder means that Shane sees the devastation that wreaks on Hershel’s daughter. All the angry defiance drains out of her, and her shoulders slump in defeat. The shotgun slips from her fingers, landing with a thud pointing inward to the hayloft.

“Dr. Greene, I’m not sure that’s the sort of thing you want to decide when emotions are high,” Shane ventures, defaulting into an attempt to defuse the situation like he would back home.

The veterinarian turns to see him. His mouth twists in distaste. “That goes for the rest of you, too. Putting murderous ideas into my daughter’s head and turning her into a killer. You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Maggie is sobbing, face buried in her hands. Shane sidesteps the old man and reaches her side. “C’mon, Maggie. Let’s get you down that ladder and back to your family.”

It surprises him that she just lets him lead her away. He expects Hershel to block his way, but the man goes inside the hayloft instead, stepping over the fallen shotgun. Shane glimpses him falling to his knees and looking down into the barn as he begins to sob.

Ellie and Merle are both at the bottom of the ladder. Merle climbs up halfway, taking Maggie from Shane as he kneels on the platform. The brunette is shaking uncontrollably and sobbing so hard that Shane’s glad of the help, because he thinks she would fall otherwise. Merle gets her passed to Ellie’s waiting arms, who leads her away to where Patricia’s left the gate to run toward them.

Merle looks up the ladder. “You need any help with the old man?” he asks. Shane shakes his head, but he does back up and retrieve the shotgun. He passes it down to Merle, who takes it with a sigh.

Shane goes back to the hayloft opening and watches as Hershel Greene finally gives way to the terrible mourning he should have done whenever the virus actually took his loved ones. It’s a painful scene to watch, especially knowing what awaits the man when he comes back to himself. If he holds any sort of affection for his daughter, the hurt dealt just now is going to take a long time to heal.

Below them in the barn itself, it’s a scene of carnage, but Shane realizes Maggie’s endeavor to lay the walkers to rest is incomplete. Either she didn’t make headshots on all of them, or Hershel interrupted her. Three walkers are still moving, one trapped under others that are completely still. 

None of the mobile ones look anything like the photos he saw in the living room, at least. To be honest, if he were in Maggie’s shoes, he would have started with family himself, just in case he didn’t manage them all. He can’t imagine making the choice she did just now. 

When faced with it himself, he didn’t pull the trigger, although thank God he didn’t since Rick wasn’t dead. If Rick had been, though, his brother’s body would be wandering that hospital room as a false image of himself, trapped by a gurney so that his unlife took place in the same room his last weeks did.

The veterinarian's heart wrenching sobs finally go quiet, and Shane wishes for a moment that he let someone else come up here, someone who knows the man. Rick was always the one with the comforting presence, not him.

“There is no hope.”

Shane startles at the old man’s unexpected words. “There’s always hope, Dr. Greene. Long as we got breath in us, we got hope.” It’s something he holds onto, because he can’t look at Carl or Merry or the other children without feeling that hope riding on his shoulders no matter how crazy the world is.

Hershel shakes his head. “There is no hope. I’ve been such a fool.” He points to one of the still moving walkers, who looks like it’s been hit twice in the chest. The walker was already rotten enough that the impact of 12-gauge slugs ripped away enough of the body that no human being could still be mobile or alive. “No human being survives that.”

“No, sir, they do not.” Shane walks over to the man, easing himself as close as he can be without being right on the edge. “But wanting to believe in a cure? Not a soul out there would begrudge you that.”

“That’s my Annette,” Hershel says, raising a shaking arm to point out a still woman in a nightgown. “She died of the virus early on, back when they were still calling it a flu.” He bites back a sob before pointing to another walker in a yellow button up. “And that’s my son, Shawn. His mother bit him when he went to take her some lunch.”

Imagining the horror of that moment, finding your dead wife attacked your son, is something that makes Shane shudder.

“They’re at peace now, Hershel. I know you want us gone, but we can at least help you get them laid to rest first.” As much as he doesn’t like the idea of Carl on the road, he knows few of their group will be willing to rub salt in the wounds of the Greene family by staying. He imagines there’s other abandoned farms around they can claim for a few days if need be.

Hershel rubs a trembling hand over his face and nods slowly. “Can you make sure they’re all beyond suffering?”

“I can make sure of that.” And it’s much easier with the man’s permission, to finish what Maggie started. “Let’s get you back to your family, and then I’ll make sure everything is taken care of.”

The man is almost too pliant as Shane helps him to his feet. He considered the man old before this, a lot older than you usually saw a man with daughters as young as his. But now? It’s like Hershel Greene just aged thirty years in the span of half an hour.

Merle’s still waiting at the ladder, helping him get Hershel down the same way as he did Maggie.

“Take him to his people. He asked that we finish the job. I told him we would help lay his family to rest.”

“I’ll send Daryl on over,” Merle acknowledges, leading Hershel away as Shane sits at the top of the ladder and tries to decide exactly how to start the task he’s promised. Once Merle’s near where Beth and Otis are gathered at the pasture gate, he calls out something Shane can’t hear, but Daryl leaves from where he and Rick have been making sure no one followed them.

The former firefighter meets his gaze from the foot of the ladder. “How bad is it?”

Shane sighs. “At least three of more than a dozen still living. Not sure how safe it’ll be for us to open the doors just yet.”

“Guess we take care of those three first. Crossbow’s quieter.” He passes the weapon up to Shane, who moves out of the way of the ladder so Daryl can ascend. He follows the other man into the hayloft, watching as Daryl takes in the carnage.

“Christ Almighty, that girl had to really be hurting to do this all on her own.” Daryl’s affinity for being a protector of the females of his family has to really make him feel Maggie’s pain more than most.

“Yeah. Wish she brought it to me. Would have helped, or done it for her.”

“Hell yeah. We wouldn’t have asked that girl to put down her own mama.” Daryl sighs and aims the crossbow. With the resounding twang, he fires the weapon, ending the struggles of the one walker trapped under its fellow barn inmates.

“It got worse than that. Her old man told her she wasn’t welcome here. He might come back from that now that he’s calmed down, but…” Shane sighs.

“But you don’t unhear that kind of thing, ever.” Daryl fires again, and another walker goes down.

“No, you do not.” It’s like Lori accusing him of deliberately abandoning Rick to move in on her and Carl. They may be in some sort of truce now, but he doesn’t think he’ll ever not have that poison in the back of his mind when he speaks to her.

A third bolt jolts a walker to stillness, and Shane can’t see any more movement below. Daryl kneels, tilting his head, and Shane does his best to be quiet for the hunter to listen.

“Think we got ‘em all, but when we open the doors, we make double sure,” the other man suggests at last. “No chances on one figuring out how to play possum.”

“Alright.” Shane offers Daryl a hand back to his feet. “Let’s get started. We’ve got a lot of graves to dig.”

The trip down the ladder is a silent one, and Shane looks toward where the only resident of the Green farm still visible is Otis, who shuffles forward when he sees them approach the barn door.

He just hopes that Ellie and Rick can solve the problem of the emotional damage to the family the same way he and Daryl are solving this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started thinking about the barn for this story, I spent a lot of time trying to figure out other ways clearing the barn could happen, especially since Shane is far more stable and less on a hair trigger. I like the barn scene and the sheer BOOM of emotion that Shane dishes out in trying to bring folks into the reality of the situation, but I also didn't want to imitate it.
> 
> Mixes events from the barn scene and the bar scene both, as far as Hershel's reactions, because I felt he would actually speak to someone sooner than he did on the show if he wasn't alienated from everyone due to the shootout. In the end, I've decided they will not encounter Randall's group, since it's already been covered in MtSF and RBM.
> 
> Pairings - Right now, my notes stand as Daryl/Glenn and Carol/Morgan. Still trying to sort it out, but I may snag one of the requests off the Bunny Farm and go for Merle/Jacqui. I have no idea on Maggie or Beth so far (since I know folks will ask).


	19. Committed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carol's choice of a supper dish sparks insight into Daryl and Ellie's lost childhood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Will Dixon's pedophile potential is mentioned in discussing Ellie and Daryl's past.

**July 19, 2010**

It takes them until an hour before dark to bury the dead properly. The task is made easier when Daryl borrows the farm tractor and uses the blade to carve shallow indentations to serve as graves. With no scavengers that will feed on the transformed remains, the bodies don't have to be buried six feet down. Otis paints wooden crosses for the friends and neighbors, admitting he never brought home any strangers.

The two Greene family members are buried closer to the farmhouse, under the shade of a large tree. Those graves, the men dig by hand, and deep enough to resemble a traditional burial. Jacqui leads several of the women in sewing shrouds for Annette and Shawn from sheets provided by Patricia. These two graves get painted stone at the head of each instead of wooden crosses.

Carl is moved with his father and Morgan's help from the farmhouse to the camp. The RV will serve well enough as a bedroom for him tonight. Andrea and Amy don't mind ceding their sleeping spaces to the boy and his mother. The boy may be mobile by Ellie's own encouragement, but he tires easily and will for weeks.

Other than Otis and Patricia, he's seen none of the other farm residents. Jimmy disappeared into the house after Beth and Hershel. 

As for Maggie, the young woman is sleeping soundly in Ellie's tent, sedated after she couldn't stop weeping. 

"How's she doing?" Shane asks as he drinks the bottle of water Ellie hands him. The day's been so busy, even before Maggie's trip into the barn, that he hasn't been able to spend any time with her today.

"I think once the reality sets in a bit better, she'll be fine. Today, she was in shock, once the full scope of what she did sank in." Ellie leans into his side, fingers resting lightly against the small of his back despite how sweaty he is from his turn at the shovel.

"Think she'll wake for the funeral? Patricia sent a change of clothes out for her." He indicates the bag that Jacqui set outside Ellie's tent when the other woman brought it over with the sheets.

"The meds have worn off by now. It's just exhaustion left to keep her sleeping. I'll wake her."

He feels the loss of her touch as soon as she starts to move away. "Hey, Ellie?" he calls softly.

"Yeah?"

"We're still… us?" Shane has no idea if what they started last night is something she intends on pursuing immediately, back among their people.

But it seems she understands the unvoiced part of his question. She smiles, eyes going speculative. "Yes."

Whatever else might be said is left for later, because Glenn's calling his name. The Korean's sharp gaze catches their exchange, but he doesn't say anything about it.

"There's a field of wildflowers down near the woods, Daryl said. I thought I would take the kids down there and let them gather some."

Shane looks toward the indicated treeline and nods. It's not out of sight of camp. "Take a shotgun."

Screw the old man's firearms rule, all things considered.

Glenn gathers up the kids, all of them except Merry, and leads them away to where Shane can see splashes of color among the high grass. He watches until the group is on the way back with armloads of blooms before going to fill one of the buckets with water to wash up the best he can. Even if he doesn't know the folks, it doesn't feel respectful to show up dirty for whatever closure the family needs.

In the end, when the farm residents make their way across to the two graves, most of Shane's people stand calmly as a group at a distance. Ellie leads Maggie over, one arm tucked comfortingly around her shoulders, just as Patricia has Beth. Shane, Jacqui, and Dale walk behind Ellie, although Hershel pays their presence no mind.

He does look at the brightly colored wildflowers strewn across the graves and reaches down to lift a yellow one. The old man is quiet for a moment, before he repeats a Bible verse Shane doesn't recognize and replaces the wildflower. Then he turns and makes his way back to the house without ever interacting with anyone.

When Beth kneels next to the graves, Maggie joins her, allowing Ellie to back up next to Shane. Her fingers link with his, and her hand is distressingly cold for a hot July evening. It reminds him of what the last funeral she attended probably was, not even a full year ago. He rubs his thumb against her skin, hoping it comforts her.

Patricia offers them a sad smile as the sisters cling to each other. She eases them back to their feet, obviously intent on taking them home. "I'll look after them."

With the quiet dismissal, Shane and the others head back to their camp. Ellie doesn't let go of his hand until she has to, accepting a bowl from Carol with a quiet thank you. She settles into a camp chair and makes a quiet hum of enjoy. "Gumbo?"

"Patricia gave me some sausage and vegetables before everything went chaotic. It seemed like a good mix."

Ellie takes another bite. "For something cooked outdoors, this reminds me of meals from restaurants back when Daryl and I lived in Louisiana."

"You lived in Louisiana?" Dale asks, looking curious as always. Shane supposes everyone is curious for more tidbits about the Dixons because they already know most everything about each other.

Ellie gives her bowl a stir, glancing to where Daryl is glaring at his food more than eating it. She frowns a little, but looks back to Dale. "When I was twelve, for a year. We also lived in California a little while and Texas."

"Was thirteen when we lived in Louisiana. Was after California and Texas," Daryl corrects. He's looking up now, his expression unsettled, and Shane figures out the issue when Daryl looks between Shane and Ellie. Her uncle is decidedly unhappy about the change in their relationship from fake to real. "And you forgot Colorado."

"That was just for the summer harvest, when we moved from California to Texas. Not really long enough to count. Mountains sure were pretty, though."

"What was your favorite place outside Georgia?" Jacqui asks. "Never been further than our neighboring states myself."

"California, I think. We were there the longest. Two years." She bobbles a spoon at Daryl. "I liked watching him surf."

That gets a lot of curious looks turned on Daryl, who seems like the antithesis of the type to surf, especially in California. The man grimaces. "Been a long time since those days."

"Were you out in California, too?" Carol asks Merle.

The big man shakes his head. "Nah. Was back in the days before I straightened up. Was doing a nickel at Burress Correctional."

Shane is a little surprised at the open admission of time served, but then again, Merle doesn't seem to care about whitewashing his past. It's a refreshing honesty Shane didn't really expect.

"Got out and couldn't find hide nor hair of Daryl or Ellie. The old man barely seemed to know they were gone. Was starting to wonder if maybe…" Merle clears his throat, and Shane remembers the scars the Dixon men bear. He can fill in the blank that Merle thought they might be dead at his father's hands. 

"But found someone that said Daryl snagged Ellie up and hightailed it out of Georgia. Stayed gone til the old bastard kicked the bucket."

"Should've done away with him, not run away and lived like we did." Daryl stands, passing his empty bowl to Carol with an abrupt thanks. He strides off to his tent.

Ellie sighs, handing her own bowl over and standing. "He always forgets we did pretty well for ourselves those years, compared to all the ones before." She follows Daryl, leaving Merry with Merle.

"How old were they, exactly?" Jacqui asks, voice soft and kind as she eyes Merle's mournful expression.

Merle glances around the group, taking note the kids are clustered together far enough away they're ignoring the adult conversation. "Ten and fifteen. The old bastard never got violent with Ellie, just us boys. But I wasn't there when she hit puberty kinda early. Daryl saw what kind of monster Will Dixon was, and he took Ellie and ran til they hit ocean."

"Jesus Christ." Shane's blood runs cold at the thought. "Did he?" He can't even complete the sentence.

"No. Daryl was a better man than me at only fifteen and smarter. I bailed on them both, mix of juvie, military, and jail. But he never wavered. Worked all the sorts of crap ass jobs available to a teenager who needed to stay off radar. Stayed out of jail, too, and kept Ellie in school even if he couldn't finish."

Merle glances toward the two other adult Dixons, jiggling Merry on his knee when she gets restless. "Only found them again after Daryl made the news working with the fire department in Atlanta. Buddy back home saw the story. Ellie was sixteen by then."

Every new bit of information Shane learns further reinforces the intertwined relationship of Ellie and Daryl. If they lit out of state when Daryl was still a teenager, they would have been made further reliant than just growing up in an abusive home would entail. Seems like the man served as parent and sibling all in one, despite being only five years older.

Daryl's disapproval of Shane being close to Ellie seems a lot more important than it did before. Thing is, he can't really figure out why, because the man always seemed friendly enough since they left the quarry. Although if he's really honest, there's a difference in friendly leadership and ignoring his past with Lori, versus ignoring it where Ellie is concerned. Shane should just volunteer for whatever shovel talk the man might deliver.

Merle's unease with the conversation shifts it finally to anything other than the darker past of his family. Shane lets the chatter flow around him, feeling relieved when Ellie returns to her seat next to him. The idea that she might change her mind about him unsettles the hell out of him. Once Ellie is back, Merry settles in her lap, sprawling to play with Shane's fingers.

Slowly, everyone drifts away to their tents, even Ellie off with Merry toward the Dixon tent. Shane sighs, knowing he's going to miss Ellie's presence next to him tonight. It's not just the potential for what they started, but the companionship and sweet affection he is craving. 

He pushes away the disappointment and gets to his feet. Morning will come early enough, and they have orders to leave. Shane reminds T-Dog to wake him for watch at four. He's had time to settle down for bed when his door is unzipped to admit Ellie with the baby, a bag, and that collapsible playpen.

She smiles at him as he gets up to take the playpen and unfold it. Merry is sound asleep, not even rousing when she's laid down.

"Where's Sadie?" He knows the teen stayed with Carol and Sophia last night, so he isn't surprised when Ellie confirms that's a repeat.

"I think she's really tickled pink about having a friend her own age. She's been lonely."

That makes Shane feel a little ashamed, remembering the quarry and how he ignores the careful exclusion of the Dixon teenager from activities with the younger kids. He hasn't spent a lot of time with the girl himself, but from what he's seen, she's a social butterfly.

"Probably does Sophia a world of good, too." The shy little blonde seems a lot happier, and it can't all be because Ed Peletier is dead.

Ellie wraps her arms around his waist and promptly muffles a yawn in his chest. Shane laughs, tilting her face up for a kiss not intended for passion.

"You got even less sleep than usual last night, didn't you?"

"Yeah. I'm hoping Merry sleeps good tonight."

Shane motions toward the air mattress, drawing her after him. She yawns again as they settle down. He finds he doesn't mind that they have a lazy repeat of last night's make out session once they're prone with no intention for more. While this sort of affectionate bed sharing isn't something he's really done before, he finds he likes it.

He lies in the dark with her head on his chest, reveling in the contact between them. Ellie is asleep too soon for him to ask if she's settled whatever Daryl's issue is. Maybe it'll have to wait until they get settled somewhere safe, but he knows it has to be sorted out. The man needs to know he isn't going to regress to his affair with Rick's wife in any way.

Shane can't see any hope of a relationship happening if Daryl Dixon remains truly opposed to him being a part of Ellie's life. He just needs to prove he's committed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ellie and Daryl's years outside Georgia will come up in more detail later.
> 
> They aren't leaving the farm just yet, I promise, and poor Shane. One very big issue is about to hurtle a wrench into the works... Hello, Judith, right?


	20. A Dangerous Place for Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lori's pregnancy is confirmed, and she has a heart-to-heart with Ellie about the options regarding the pregnancy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Very **pro-choice** discussion of realistic abortion options between two women without involving the potential father(s) in the decision. If that could bother you, please skip to the end for a summary or skip the chapter entirely. 
> 
> We all know that Lori is going to have the baby.

**July 20, 2010**

When Ellie enters the RV to inventory the everyday medical supplies they keep in the RV to see what needs to be restocked from the towed trailer full of purloined hospital supplies, she hears the quiet sob from the bathroom and hesitates. She looks back outside to do a mental tally of who is visible and who isn’t, since not a lot of people use the RV bathroom. With the lack of dumping stations and the water needed to process the plumbing system, folks tend to make due with the little ‘camp bathroom’ set up behind a strategic tarp.

When she realizes who is missing, she sighs. Lori’s been far more tolerable since she read through that poor nurse’s journal, but plunging into any emotional distress the woman is having really feels like it should be Rick’s domain.

But growing up a Dixon certainly didn’t make her a coward, so she goes and taps on the door. “Lori? Are you okay?”

The crying is muffled immediately, and Ellie sighs and backs away from the door, going to start her inventory while the other woman decides if she wants to talk or not. It takes about five minutes and the sound of water running for about a minute before Lori emerges. Ellie doesn’t think she’s ever seen the woman look so distraught. It’s enough to feel a surge of sympathy.

“Can you keep a secret?” Lori asks hesitantly.

That puts Ellie on alert, because secrets never seem to pan out well where she’s concerned. “Depends on what it is, to be honest.”

“How accurate are home pregnancy tests? The ones we have?” Lori fumbles a capped plastic stick onto the counter, looking like she’s about to cry again. Ellie looks at the positive result and suppresses a groan.

“That one should be pretty accurate if you’ve already missed your period. When was yours due?” Despite a growing sense of unease, Ellie shifts into nurse mode and reaches out to lock the RV door.

Lori swallows hard. “I haven’t had one since we evacuated. I had one the week Rick was shot, and that was the last. End of May.”

“Were they regular before? Were you using birth control? Sit. We’ll go ahead and do the blood test. That iStat machine has some hCG cartridges.”

The brunette settles into a seat at the table, offering her arm listlessly as Ellie preps to draw blood. “Like clockwork. I had the patch, but I lost one at the quarry and didn’t notice until the change date.”

“How long was that?” Ellie lets the iStat do its work, saving the second vial of blood for the other blood work she suspects she’ll need to do once the first result arrives.

“Three days.”

“When was that?”

“When we first got to the quarry.” Lori starts crying softly. “I haven’t missed one since. I’ve checked like three times a day. I can’t be pregnant. Not now, and not like that.”

Ellie can understand the distress. All the timing adds up to a very messy emotional confrontation of the issue no one talks about, but everyone seems aware of. Somehow, as much as he seems oblivious, Ellie isn’t sure even Rick is ignorant of the former relationship between Lori and Shane.

“That’ll put you about nine weeks in. This isn’t something that can stay secret, Lori, not for long. And we can do an ultrasound to completely confirm that time estimate, but you and I both know the odds of conceiving in the last ten days if you were doing well with the patch are pretty slim.”

“Could it stay secret if I ended the pregnancy? They make pills for that, right? Like emergency contraception?”

“The emergency contraception only works within 72 hours of unprotected sex.” Ellie checks the iStat, wishing this test didn’t take so long to analyze. “There is a two-medication combination that would essentially induce a miscarriage, but we won’t find it at any random pharmacy, not in Georgia. I honestly think the only place we could would be a Planned Parenthood office.”

“They would probably have one in Savannah, right?” Lori’s hugging herself, rocking slightly in her seat.

“As far as I know, they did. There were several around Atlanta.” Ellie’s familiar with those, because she got all of her gynecological care at one of the Atlanta clinics as a teen and young adult. “The further along you are, the more medication will likely be needed. You might have to take it a couple of times.”

“But it would be just like a miscarriage?”

“Essentially, yes. It isn’t without risks. I know a lot of holier than thou types like to think miscarriages happen naturally and without risk, but there’s a reason gynecologists perform D&Cs for miscarrying women. If you retained any part of the uterine lining, that would be dangerous, and even if I get the equipment needed for an emergency D&C, I’ve assisted on one. I’d insist on antibiotics, too, just to be completely safe.”  
Quite honestly, Ellie isn’t sure what worries her more, potentially having to perform a D&C on any of the women in their group, or overseeing an unexpected pregnancy. It’s time to get really nosy with everyone’s birth control status, she thinks.

Lori bows her head even further, even as the machine finishes its work. Ellie looks at it and sighs. “Lori? Is paternity the only reason you don’t want the pregnancy?”

That gets the other woman to raise her head, and she shakes her head. “I had a difficult pregnancy with Carl, and he was born by C-section. Being pregnant now, with all the dead around us, with the possibility of being attacked at any time? Is that something you would choose?” Lori flushes with embarrassment. “I know you have Merry, but would you even take a chance now on having a baby?”

Ellie can definitely understand that fear. Hell, she counts her blessings every damned day that Merry is the world’s most laid back baby and never frets or squalls like babies are prone to do. Daryl likes to chalk it up to Merry almost always being in contact with a caretaker, like babies used to be in nomadic societies. 

“No, I wouldn’t.” She switches out the cartridges for the general blood work. “And I had a really easy pregnancy. But we won’t be unprotected on the road forever.” 

Ellie was doing her inventory in preparation for probably leaving in three days, if Shane, Daryl, and Jacqui’s little trio held to the decision they were discussing after breakfast. No one wants to leave the Greenes in full turmoil since Hershel hasn’t reemerged to insist on them leaving, but they can’t sit around here forever. They just aren’t rushing since Carl does need a little more recovery time.

“It’s hard to be hopeful when I just saw my twelve-year-old son operated on for a gunshot wound. Some of the things we saw on the way to the quarry, I keep seeing them in my nightmares.”

“The world’s always been a dangerous place for children, I hate to say, but I understand. It didn’t exactly reinforce my faith to have to operate on Carl, either.” Ellie makes notes of the new blood work on a scrap of paper. She’ll have to monitor this no matter what Lori eventually decides.

“You aren’t trying to talk me out of ending the pregnancy?” 

Ellie looks up to meet the bloodshot brown eyes of the woman sitting across from her. “I’m of the opinion that no one should be in the healthcare field if they can’t accept the reality that people have to make their medical decisions without influence of someone else’s religious beliefs or morality. It’s your body, Lori. You’re the one who has to support the pregnancy if you keep it and endure the miscarriage if you decide not to. My job is to tell you the potential risks and provide the care you decide you need.”

“Could you support a pregnancy, if you needed to? You said you were a pediatric nurse before.”

“I did an OB rotation during my clinicals, since you don’t specialize at that level, but I’ll be honest with you that I got to stand in on two C-sections as an observer only. Could I perform one? Most likely, although I would want to have at least one person trained to assist. Daryl could probably learn. He’s got steady hands and a solid medical background as a paramedic.”

Considering the fact that cadaver practice is a key part of anatomy at that level, she doesn’t think Daryl is going to appreciate being volunteered for the task, but he’ll do it if she asks.

Lori is still looking half distraught, so Ellie wraps the two cartridges and the pregnancy stick into a paper towel and places them in a baggie to dispose of later.

“Can you describe your pregnancy issues?” When Lori startles at her voice and frowns, Ellie gives her a reassuring smile. “Some issues don’t necessarily reoccur. Why did you have a C-section?”

“Carl was breech. They couldn’t get him to turn. But before that, I was anemic, and I had a lot of problems with my blood pressure.”

“The anemia I can understand. You’re pretty close now, enough that it’s something we need to keep an eye on regardless of the pregnancy. Did you develop preeclampsia?” Ellie gets up and retrieves her stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. Lori offers her arm without being asked.

“Yes. About three weeks before Carl was born. They delivered him at 35 weeks.”

“Well, your blood pressure is a little high right now, but considering what you’re thinking about, that’s to be expected, but I doubt it’s an issue as of yet. But having preeclampsia once puts you at higher risk on a later pregnancy. We can combat it, because ironically, blood pressure medication is something I’m fairly familiar with thanks to Merle.”

“And with no NICU? They took Carl for the first day and kept him in the NICU, but he responded really well.”

“I won’t say it’ll be easy, and the earlier a baby comes without that level of technology, the more likely we can’t provide the care it needs. But preemies were surviving long before modern healthcare, and we at least have a headstart on knowing what they need that our pre-twentieth century ancestors didn’t have.”

“How long do I have to decide?”

“I’d say no more than three weeks, to be safe. Ovulation isn’t necessarily a clockwork thing, so it’s possible you conceived later than that estimate. But the only way to really know that would be an ultrasound.”

“We have that machine. You used it for Carl.”

Ellie lays her equipment aside and reaches out to take Lori’s hand, which startles the hell out of the brunette. “I’ve known women who had ultrasounds done, Lori, and several were not able to terminate the pregnancy after seeing that screen. There’s a reason some states require women to sit through an ultrasound before an abortion to shame them into not getting one. It’s emotional warfare.”

“But you would do one if I asked?”

“It’s all your choice. If you want an ultrasound, we’ll get one. I could even keep the screen away from you, but that temptation you’ll have to look might be overwhelming. If you want to end the pregnancy, and I can obtain the proper medication, I will assist you, as long as it is within the next three weeks. I don’t have the skills to safely assist you past that point. And if you want this baby? I will become the best damned midwife possible.”

“I need to think about it more.” When Ellie lets go of her hand to fetch a bottle of iron tablets and hand them over, Lori takes them and eyes the little bottle. “Will you keep it secret?”

“As long as you don’t have any complications, yes. Everyone’s health care is private unless I have to reveal something for the sake of the group’s safety. Or it ends up public by aspect of what it is, like the treatments I had to oversee here or Rick’s health issues being a bit hard to keep under wraps.”

“Even from Shane?”

Ellie crosses her arms. “Even from Shane. Or Rick. If you choose to talk to either of them, that is your choice, not mine to force upon you.”

The surprise on Lori’s face isn’t something that astonishes Ellie. The complicated issues surrounding abortion are rarely something a woman expects to get sympathy regarding, especially in a state like Georgia that wraps reproduction so tightly in a religious moral code that Ellie’s heard people state that women should give birth to their rapist’s baby just to adopt it out. Considering the circumstances of her own birth? There’s no way in hell Ellie would ever be one of those moralizers.

The hug she receives is unexpected, but Ellie returns it without hesitation. It isn’t a decision she has ever had to face, but she can’t imagine making it with no support at all. She resolves to let the still lingering resentment of Lori’s bitchiness at the quarry go, because harboring it does no one any good. When Lori pulls away and heads for the RV door, she pauses. “Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“If you do need to talk, and you don’t feel like you can with Rick, come find me.”

Lori blinks away tears, gives her a weak smile, and leaves the RV.

It’s a possibility that she could take the brunt of any anger either man has, should Lori make the decision without consulting either of them. But even as much as she cares for Shane, she’s never let a man’s temper force her hand as a nurse before. 

She isn’t going to start now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lori confides in Ellie about her pregnancy, and Ellie discusses the options available to either end or continue the pregnancy. She gives Lori a timeline where ending the pregnancy would be possible, and how, along with whether or not they could sustain the pregnancy safely after Lori asks her about that possibility. We all know that Lori is going to have the baby.
> 
> Ellie's support of Lori will have a ripple effect, and Ellie's thoughts about herself as the product of rape is going to come into play as a warning for the future chapter where the pregnancy comes to light.
> 
> I know that abortion is an emotional hot topic for far more reasons than religion. Ellie's portrayal here is how I personally feel any healthcare worker should behave. The false myth of miscarriages being natural landed me in a hellscape situation of having a miscarriage go very badly wrong when religious healthcare providers fail to do their job because a D&C is an "abortion procedure". (Guess what? I damn near needed a hysterectomy instead, and DID need a blood transfusion.)


	21. Compass Rose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patricia seeks Ellie's help for Beth's depressed state, and Shane and Daryl finally talk about Ellie.

**July 20, 2010**

What started out as an idea that he needs to spend time with Sadie as well as Merry ended up with Shane surrounded by all of the children. It makes him wish life before the outbreak had allowed him time to coach a Little League team or something, because the kids are damned good company. He sort of always thought Carl was a bit of a fluke there, in holding his interest long term.

“Who taught you how to do this?” Sadie asks, fingers nimble with the knot he just taught the other kids. Duane’s struggling with his, so Shane’s repeating the taut-line hitch for him. “Were you a Boy Scout or something?”

“Nah. Never could sit still long enough to really fit in with the Boy Scouts.” That, and Rick never had much interest beyond the first couple of Cub Scout meetings they went to when they were small. Without Rick there, it was boring. “My grandma taught me actually. Also taught me to hunt and fish and a lot of other things.”

“Your grandma?” Sophia looks puzzled as she finishes her knot and then undoes it to repeat the motion. “Not your dad or grandpa?”

“My grandfather passed away before I was born, but she always went camping and hunting with him.” The less shared about his long-absent father, the better, as far as Shane’s concerned. Grandma Jean often swore she must have dropped his father on his head as a baby, based on how he turned out.

Hours spent following Grandma Jean through the woods were some of his favorite times as a kid. Shane can still picture those modified camo coveralls she wore every time they hunted, which had to be altered from store bought because back then there wasn’t a real selection for women, much less a woman who didn’t top five feet in height.

“Is she where you learned to find mushrooms?” Sadie asks, leaning over to nudge Louis and help correct the knot. “I know Daryl’s mama taught him how to forage as a kid.”

“Yeah. Doubt she ever knew we would end up living off them so much.”

Movement at the Greene farmhouse catches his eye, and he looks up to see Ellie and Daryl are returning with Beth tucked under Ellie’s arm. Patricia, half distraught, came and fetched her to help with a problem up at the house, but the older blonde didn’t specify what. Ellie leads Beth to where the majority of the kids are, nudging Sadie as Beth sits listlessly next to the younger teenager. Daryl angles over to where Merle has Merry and babynaps his niece.

“Beth is going to stay the night with us,” Ellie tells Sadie.

“I’m guessing we aren’t leaving in the morning?” Shane asks. He didn’t accompany them up to the house, since the request seemed medical, and he figured Daryl or Ellie would fill him in.

“Gonna take another day here, but then if Carl’s feeling up to it, we’ll get underway. Greenes are coming with us.” Ellie still has a hand on Beth’s shoulder, obviously trying to comfort the girl.

Shane isn’t sure the rest of the details need to be shared in front of the kids, so he gets to his feet. “Y’all keep practicing. See if you can link all your practice pieces together, maybe. Sadie? Think you can show Beth?” He hands her the pieces he was using for examples. The old rope sacrificed for the lessons is getting a good workout this evening.

The girl nods, so Shane leads Ellie over to where Jacqui’s left the main group shooting the breeze in after supper relaxation. The older woman’s concerned look between Beth and the farmhouse displays Shane’s own feelings on the matter.

“They’re a complicated mess up at the house right now. Weeks of denial did not help their grieving process, so it’s a bit like the reality of everything is hitting them all at once instead of in steps. Maggie may be down here later, but she and her father seem to have aired out the worst of the bad blood.” Ellie sighs, looking strained, and Shane reaches out to rub a hand against her back without really thinking about it.

“Well, at least they aren’t letting it fester,” Jacqui remarks. Her sharp eyes take in his movement, and she gives Shane a look that says the shovel talk that hasn’t yet been delivered by a Dixon may arrive from a unique direction. “But why do we have the littlest Greene?”

“She’s been too protected, so it’s too much reality at once. Patricia came to fetch me because she thought Beth was disassociating, which made her afraid the girl might hurt herself.”

“She suicidal?” Shane asks, feeling alarmed. He’s dealt with the aftermath of attempts and suicides before, and it’s one of the most heartbreaking things he ever tackled as a deputy. Beth looks so damned young, but he knows from experience that age doesn’t mean a thing when it comes to despair.

“Possibly. I don’t think her isolation here from other kids really helped. She might be older than the other kids with us, but I think that is actually a good thing. Seeing how they’re coping might help her see there’s hope better than an adult preaching at her.”

“And Sadie’s lost her parents, too,” Jacqui says softly, looking toward the two girls working intently over the ropes in their laps.

“That was my thought, yeah. She doesn’t really remember losing her father, because she was only five, but she watched the cancer take Mary away from her. I think the experience is enough overlap for Beth to have a peer to talk with. Plus losing a brother is another parallel.”

“Lot of responsibility to put on Sadie,” Shane observes, feeling concerned. 

“It is, but Sadie’s had years of professional counseling, and obviously we’ll all be there for Beth, too. Daryl doesn’t like to talk much about what it’s like to lose a mother, especially the way she died, but he’s already said he’ll do what he can.”

Shane remembers the conversation that revealed Ellie not knowing Merle was her father until she was an adult. If Ellie was four when her adoptive mother died, that would put Daryl about nine. Jesus.

“Am I allowed to be nosy and ask how?”

Ellie’s expression doesn’t change when he asks, so he assumes she’s not upset. “Of course. There was a fire, right after school started that year. I was at the head start program in town, and Daryl at school. When we weren’t picked up, the sheriff’s department sent someone out to do a welfare check and found the fire burning out. We were in foster care for about a week before someone finally tracked Will down, but at least they kept us together.”

“Where was Merle?” Jacqui looks like she wants to just snag Ellie up in a hug, but Shane is the one that gets to step in, sliding his arm around her waist.

“Off in the Marines, stationed out in California. He enlisted as soon as he turned eighteen and could sit for his GED, so he had been gone about six months by then.”

It’s not something Shane wants to comment on, but he would just about bet that Daryl becoming a firefighter is directly related to how his mother died. The two kids probably would have been better off staying in foster care, but he suspects the system would have ended up separating them. Barely beyond her toddler years, Ellie would have been a prime candidate to be adopted. Daryl? Foster care might not have been a real improvement for a boy already that old and from an abusive home. Adoptive homes don’t want half-grown, damaged kids as much as babies and toddlers.

Jacqui rubs at her forearms and looks thoughtful. When Shane follows her gaze, he’s a little surprised to see that she’s watching Merle, who is on the fringes of the adult group. The older man is reading in the fading light, some battered paperback that looks more tape than text on the exterior. But she turns back to them after a moment.

“You said that Maggie and Hershel cleared the air? How so?”

“Apparently with lots of shouting, and Hershel taking a header off the wagon. He’s sleeping off the liquor, and Maggie wanted to sit with him. I think it’s part of what worked Beth up, because she’s never seen her father drink. According to Patricia, Hershel’s been sober since before Maggie’s mother died, but he was a hardcore alcoholic for a number of years prior to that.”

That will make things interesting if they’re taking a man struggling with a relapse along with them, but Shane figures they can manage it. He can’t see the girls leaving without their father, and he really isn’t comfortable leaving them and Jimmy here with so little adult protection.

Ellie frowns as Jimmy comes venturing across to join the group of kids, looking a little lost. “You two will want to meet with Otis and Patricia in the morning to sort out what to do with the animals and such. Honestly, if we can safely transport at least the horses and chickens to the coast, it’s a resource we shouldn’t give up.”

“If we stay moving as much as we can, I don’t see why we can’t. Birds don’t seem all that noisy, other than that damned rooster,” Shane notes. “And horses don’t usually fuss much without reason. Might be a warning system if we do have to stop for the night.”

Not taking the cattle, even though they’re a food source, probably makes sense. If he remembers correctly, cattle is resource intensive in comparison to the food payout. They can always come back to transport the animals if they find a secure place.

Jacqui nods in agreement. “We’ll get it sorted. Meanwhile, I think it’s about my turn on watch, so you two have a good night.”

Shane watches as she goes to climb the RV ladder, sending Morales down to his family.

“You gonna stay with the girls tonight?” he asks Ellie, knowing what the answer probably is and tamping down on the little surge of disappointed loneliness. It’ll be better when they get somewhere they can settle, so he just has to be patient. 

“Unless Maggie comes down, yeah. Don’t want to drop it all in Carol’s lap.”

Although the older woman seems to be creeping out of her shell with Ed dead and gone, Shane can understand the sentiment. “Alright. Come sit with me awhile?”

She joins him at the fire, sitting close and taking Merry from Daryl when the baby fusses for her bedtime feeding. The side eye he gets from her uncle for the hour or so before Ellie goes to round children up to disburse for bedtime makes him uneasy. A supply run into town took up enough of his day that he didn’t remember to ask her what she and Daryl discussed the night before.

Deciding he might as well face the music, he says his own good nights. “Hey, Daryl? Got a minute?”

The man replies in an affirmative far too quickly for Shane’s comfort and follows him to his tent. With his being in the outer arc, they’re relatively far enough away from the fire to not be overheard.

“Figured we probably had a talk coming.”

Daryl snorts. “That would be a fucking understatement. Ellie’s told me to stay out of it, but since you invited me over, I guess that means I don’t have to mind my own business.”

“If you’re worried about me because of Lori,” Shane begins, but Daryl’s shifting expression makes him trail off.

“Ain’t just the non-widow I worry about. Ellie likes to remind me that people grieve in their own ways and at their own pace. Seen things like you and Lori happen before. The Lazarus bit, not so much.” Daryl is fidgeting and rubbing that ring finger again. “It’s the secrecy. Can tell no one is talking about it, because how all three of you keep looking at each other.”

Shane can’t exactly argue with that. He’s avoided the conversation he knows he should have with Rick, because he isn’t sure their friendship will survive it. The Grimes marriage was fragile as hell well before Rick ended up in a hospital bed, and Rick seems almost desperate for a restart with Lori. The antagonistic behavior Lori had toward Shane has ceased, leaving them to a solid case of ignoring each other aside from a few brief conversations regarding Carl’s recovery.

“Feels like too much to drop onto Rick right now,” Shane admits quietly. “He’s still recovering, and Carl being shot sure as hell rocked him hard.”

“The longer you wait isn’t going to make hearing it any easier.” Daryl laughs, but there’s little humor in the sound. “I don’t want Ellie caught in the crossfire when it does finally blow up. She fought hard to get to where she is now, stable and happy. Her and Sadie both.”

As much as he dreads that talk with Rick, he agrees with Daryl that Ellie certainly doesn’t need to be even sideswiped by the issue. Although they’ve discussed it, it was brief and in passing when they were both distracted by the exploration burgeoning attraction between them. “It might be best to wait until we’re not on the road.”

Daryl meets his gaze then, blue eyes narrowed, but whatever he sees, he nods. “Can concede that much. Can’t say I even understand you and Ellie much at all, but if you fail to live up to the trust she’s placing in you, Walsh…” He sighs, shifting his weight and looking like he’s in pain. “Ellie doesn’t trust easily. For some reason, she does trust you. I gotta try to trust Ellie, because God knows she’s better at people than I ever was.”

Shane thinks Ellie isn’t the only Dixon that doesn’t trust easily. Merry might be the first, but even the baby seems to have her issues with people. Whether it’s an infant’s whim or the baby feeding off adult feelings, who knows? The idea of hurting Ellie makes his gut churn, and he already knows he’s too far gone on Merry to back away from the baby. He knows that Sadie will wriggle her irrepressible self right in there, too, given the opportunity.

“I asked her why me, because I sure as hell don’t appear to be a catch, lack of population or not, with my baggage,” Shane admits. “She said because I understood what that moment was like, to lose someone like she did.”

While he expects Daryl to raise the objection he did, that Rick’s not actually dead, the other man doesn’t. Instead he looks thoughtful, and Shane wonders if he didn’t actually ask Ellie anything about why. “Makes sense. Can’t explain that feeling to someone who hasn’t felt it. Would have given the entire fucking world for Ellie to not understand.”

Although he doesn’t expect an answer, Shane asks anyway. “You’re a widower, aren’t you?” Divorced could explain the habit with the ring finger, but the sense of grief around the other man at times is too mournful to be explained by divorce.

“What’s the worst fear you have as a first responder coming up on an accident?” Daryl asks.

Jesus Christ. Although Shane was there when Rick was shot, standing not three feet away and feeling a cascade of relief that his partner survived the first impact on his vest, it’s not the same as what Daryl’s suggesting. The horrified sympathy must show clearly because Daryl nods almost absently.

“They tried to stop me from going up to the car. Captain recognized it before I did.” Reaching into the collar of the worn, sleeveless shirt that Shane can’t actually visually replace with the firefighter’s gear the man once wore, Daryl exposes a pendant. It takes Shane a minute to recognize that the gold circle of the compass pendant is an actual wedding band, with the compass rose suspended within it.

Daryl touches the ring with a softly muttered, “Mine”, and the compass rose, “Rowe’s”. He rubs his thumb against the centerpiece before dropping it back out of sight. “Ellie had it made for me eight years ago.”

Shane thinks of Lori, wearing Rick’s ring against that locket like a ritual, and he thinks he understands it. After all, Ellie still wears her rings, although he has no idea if she has Isaac’s somewhere. 

“You’ll never be able to help dying. None of us can, especially now. But anything else? Make sure you’re as certain of wanting to be with Ellie as you know your own soul.” There’s no voiced threat, no ‘or else’, but the small hairs on the back of Shane’s neck stand up anyway. 

“I will.” Not I am, because he thinks Daryl would sense that he’s not that committed, not yet. Shane doesn’t think Ellie is either, and the messed up world they live in now doesn’t really give them all the traditions of dating to sort out compatibility.

“All I can ask.” There’s no farewell from the other man. Daryl just turns and walks away, back to pick up his crossbow outside his tent and the ambling patrol Shane knows he does at every camp. Glenn calls out to Daryl, and the older man pauses long enough for Glenn to catch up, which is a relief because the solo patrols make Shane uneasy for Daryl’s sake.

Even as he gets ready for bed so he’s got some sleep before his dawn watch shift, Shane thinks of that compass medallion and wonders if he’s capable of the sort of devotion that has a man mourning at least eight years after losing his spouse.

Something tells him it’s something he should figure out, before he and Ellie go any further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I said, last chapter set up some future stinkbombs, but they won't hit just yet until the group is actually beyond the farm. There's not going to be a Randall encounter, as this Hershel found his liquor more local (Otis did not hide his stash well enough), and Beth is getting better help than people fluttering around not sure what to do about her suicidal ideations.
> 
> Next chapter will be them finding their sanctuary and we'll start moving forward in time a little more. At this point, they're only about 11 days since Rick reappeared.
> 
> Daryl/Glenn note: As this chapter makes poignantly obvious, that's going to be pretty slow going, and I'll probably roll it into a sequel for the full romance. I don't want to shortchange the D/G fans by them only getting to see it secondhand through Shane (and Ellie, if she snags the POV wheel again). The way Daryl gave out the name accidentally obscured his spouse's gender, because "Rowe's" sounds like "Rose." That will be important for a future chapter, as well exploring what marriage meant in a time where Daryl and Rowe would not have been able to legally marry.


	22. A Simple Path to Happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group reaches Cockspur Island and spends a night in a historic fort. Ellie makes a gesture that furthers Shane toward being sure of their relationship.

** July 23, 2010 **

The irony of their new safe haven is that Shane never would have thought of this angle, not on his own. He’s been to Tybee Island on vacation multiple times, considering it was a great favorite of Rick’s parents when they were kids. The island was even high on the list of possibilities, because the usual population was already small and many would have evacuated to Jacksonville and its naval base’s protection. No hospital on the island is also in its favor.

But it’s a huge space, well known as a tourist spot, and they could never secure the whole island easily if it does have a significant walker population. The first night camped on the road, Daryl dragged Merle into the conversation, reminding Shane that Ellie mentioned the man was living in Savannah when Isaac died.

The burly redneck mulled it over, mentioning a few resorts or rentals that might be securable that he was familiar with from work. He joked about just taking over Fort Pulaski and them living like Civil War soldiers, but the laughter faded in what would have been a light bulb moment in a cartoon.

Cockspur Island’s most famous structure might be the National Park Service maintained historical fort, but the western end is home to a United States Coast Guard Station.

Getting past Savannah’s outskirts, which weren’t as bad as Atlanta for walker population but still had concerning amounts, is a pain in the ass. They end up taking an extra day to backtrack through South Carolina, sending a group ahead to scout out downtown Savannah. The herds have moved outward from the desolate city center with nothing for them to cannibalize, so they cross at Hutchinson Island. Reconnecting with the interstate, they make it to the bridge onto Tybee and later Cockspur at damn near dusk on the third day since they left the Greene Farm.

“At least once we get settled in, we can start using boats,” Shane observes idly to Rick as his partner parks at the visitor center at Fort Pulaski. “Then the herds won’t matter as much unless we need to move inland.”

“Hurricanes might,” Rick says, waiting to shut off the engine until their entire caravan is parked.

It grew, with the addition of the Greenes. One big stock trailer carries all four horses, and another contains nearly two dozen chickens. He’s really hoping the Coast Guard Station pans out, because those poor horses are a special kind of miserable in the hundred degree heat, and the chickens can’t be much better. 

Since it’s too dark to tackle the Coast Guard Station safely tonight, they’re going to camp out at the Fort, and Maggie’s already indicated that if they can block off the entrance at the drawbridge, they can let the animals out for some exercise.

“Yeah, but we’ll see hurricanes coming in time to head upriver.” Shane opens his door and goes to join up the team checking the Fort for any unwanted residents.

Merle calls out to the gathering group. “Shouldn’t be any inside, but the island's got gators. Keep that in mind.”

Wouldn’t that be a lot of fun to encounter inside the historic building, Shane thinks. It’ll be an island resident they need to make sure all the kids stay aware of and probably means no livestock can just be left to roam. Even ridding the island of any they find wouldn’t really work, besides being cruel to the animals. The river channels that keep walkers off the island are no barrier to wildlife that can swim.

Spotlighting the dim and unlit rooms and corridors of the Fort doesn’t take long, and Merle’s prediction that it would be free of people, living or dead, proves accurate. Even the small visitor’s center is completely empty. Dividing everyone into teams, they get tents into the parade grounds of the Fort, setting them up to one side while Maggie, Otis, and Hershel stretch solar powered electric netting to cordon a section of the large space.

Transport cages of squawking chickens protest being jostled around, but once they’re free of the narrow confines, the poultry seems enamored of their temporary quarters.

With the thick brick walls of the Fort preventing their camp from being seen, the ladies rig up lanterns, pitching the tents close to the walls to take advantage of the artificial light. The waxing moon will be full in a handful of days, which contributes to making the two-and-a-half acre parade ground circled by the Fort’s walls and moat seem welcoming. No one really wants a campfire. The temperature is dropping with sunset, but it’s still in the eighties.

MREs are passed around, with the kids still liking the quirky military food in the way only kids can enjoy unique meals. Andrea climbs to the top of the Fort wall to stand watch, since all their vehicles are in an area they can’t truly call secure. The Dixon brothers blocked the bridge on the Tybee side with a couple of abandoned vehicles, but without a search of the entire island, extra caution is certainly necessary.

“Bet the park service people never thought of their cannons as safety gates,” Shane remarks, finishing off his pouch of chicken whatever while he watches Merle, Otis, and Daryl maneuver one of the historic relics to block the doorway. “Why not raise the drawbridge? It just for show now?”

“Not sure,” Merle replies. Despite it being a historic landmark for Georgia history, and several of their group having been to Tybee Island, he’s the only one who actually toured Fort Pulaski before the outbreak. “But I remember from the tour literature that it took two men to haul it up and five to let it back down. Lot easier to get around the cannon if we need to leave in a hurry, but if a stray walker gets past the watch, it's gonna get bottlenecked.”

“Same for the wildlife, mostly,” Daryl adds, peering around the base of the cannon. “Bet they have wildcats here, like most of the less populated islands.”

Considering about half of the barrier islands are park land or wildlife management areas, Shane thinks Daryl’s probably right. “Had a buddy that used to get a gator permit, but he hunted further south. Swore they were good eating.”

Daryl shrugs. “Good eating, yeah. Bit of a bitch to butcher though, and the bigger ones aren’t really worth the trouble. Wouldn’t waste the meat if I had to take one, but they put on a lot of fat, and the meat goes tough as hell after they get older.”

“About like the difference in taking a young buck for venison versus the mythical thirty pointers?”

Shane’s quip makes the other man snort in laughter, along with the others who overhear as they return to camp chairs circled up around the non-existent fire. He takes the chair next to Ellie, smiling as Merry readily reaches for him.

“Pretty much.”

“Are y’all talking about eating alligator?” Andrea asks, frowning. “We’re not that bad off, surely?”

“I don’t hunt anything I can’t eat,” Daryl says, voice gruff. “Hunting for sport is a shit thing to do. There’s a lot of critters that make for decent eating, especially since we aren’t exactly going to have chicken and cattle farms serving meat to the supermarkets on the regular anymore.”

“Could bring cattle to some of the islands,” Hershel muses. The old man looks like he aged a decade after his fight with Maggie and bout with the bottle, but he’s been lucid and quiet. Since his family seems unconcerned, Shane’s letting it be for now. “Just let them roam, like the horses down on Cumberland. Think I remember that some rich fella ran Angus on one of the barrier islands back in the day.”

“Wouldn’t we lose them to predators?” Shane asks, thinking about Merle’s gator warning.

“Cattle are bigger and meaner than most people give them credit for. Gators are about the only thing they might be at risk for, and they’re honestly large enough that I don’t think most gators would bother the adults,” the vet explains. 

“And the calves?”

“Those we might lose some of, but not enough to decimate them. It’s not like the Florida swamps.” Hershel takes a sip of his coffee. “I think that going forward, we’ll be doing more hunting than husbandry for the proteins we eat.”

Jacqui seems to be thinking that one over. “Think we could manage gardens here? It’s late in the season, but I remember my mama planting stuff out in the garden in August. Seems like we ought to have a decent growing season, if we can secure the whole island, especially.”

It’s Patricia who answers, when Hershel glances to her. Shane supposes the woman did seem to be in charge of the large garden at the farm, probably leaving the cattle to her husband and Hershel. “I think so. Might have to bring in soil, depending on what’s here. I imagine it’s got a lot of salt content at times that might not work for more finicky plants.”

“Greenhouses, maybe. Raised beds?” Otis suggests, smiling bashfully when it draws everyone’s attention. “Be a bit of work to get started, but more sustainable, right?”

“Fewer pests, too, I bet,” his wife adds, patting his hand and smiling sweetly. “Not like it’ll cost us a king’s ransom nowadays, just finding supplies and keeping safe fetching them.”

Shane turns to Merle, since he knows the area best. “That possible? Places that might be out of the way of the worst of the walkers?”

“Hell, I’m not beyond dismantling some of the useless tourist trap places for lumber if we need it,” the redneck says. “Might find the plant nurseries and make off with their buildings, too.”

“We’ll start making a priority list once we know for sure we aren’t going to have to pack up and find something even more remote,” Jacqui suggests, which turns most of the discussion toward the children’s excitement since several of them have never seen the ocean before. They aren’t quite that far yet, still in the Savannah River channel, but soon as everything’s safe, Shane promises himself to take the kids all out to experience the vastness of the ocean.

The road trip saw Beth sticking under Ellie’s guardianship for whatever reason made her lean on the nurse, so Shane’s a little surprised when he sees Merry’s playpen in his tent when he heads for bed, since he’s got the dawn watch. Smiling to himself, he strips down for bed, even though he knows not much of anything is going to happen with his tent literally two feet from the ones on either side. If it were a longer term thing, these tents, he supposes it would end up shyness be damned, because he sure isn’t sneaking off into the wilds with Ellie in a freaky recreation of his time with Lori.

“Girls with Carol tonight?” he asks when Ellie pops through the tent door. She zips it quickly as he did, not wanting the irritating Georgia insect life to join them. 

“Yeah.” Merry’s asleep, that sweet boneless sprawl of the very young. Ellie settles her into the playpen before beginning to discard the day’s sweaty clothing, too.

Something that’s been discarded is the pretext that he and Ellie are married. Once the Greenes as hosts was no longer an issue, Ellie kindly told Patricia the truth. From the looks Shane keeps getting from the older woman, he suspects she knows something came of his and Ellie’s playacting, though. Pretty much everyone knows that now, obviously.

“You know, while I miss air conditioning, right now, I just want a fan to keep a breeze going,” Ellie complains as she stretches out on the air mattress.

Shane chuckles, joining her and laying on his side to face her. “You and me both. Think Merle considered this place might work, except then he would have to help rig up an electric grid for a generator before you ladies rioted on him.”

“He might still have to tinker. If the Station’s unoccupied and usable, it’s going to be set up more to keep up communications and such going with emergency power, not residential areas. Granted, that would provide us with refrigeration at least, but I’m tired of the outdoors and not yet brave enough for the summer indoors without electricity.”

“What? No declaration that your stalwart Dixon ancestors lived off the land and don’t need modern conveniences?” he teases, drawing fingers down her arm from her shoulder. She’s got the translucently pale skin of a true redhead, which requires sunscreen by the bucket, in her own words. It’s a contrast with his own darker skin, courtesy of Eastern European ancestry he’s never been entirely clear on.

“Nope. Haven’t you realized I’m a city girl now?” she teases, reaching up to draw him down for a lingering kiss.

Daryl’s words are in the back of his mind, to make sure he’s sure. Sharing a tent seems like that step too far to certainty, except their current life means this is about the only time to figure out what they are to each other. He’s constantly drawn in multiple directions even with sharing responsibility with Daryl and Jacqui, and Ellie’s daytime attention is equally demanded between the children and her medical skills.

Shane turns as the kiss ends, capturing the hand cupping his jaw and kissing the palm. He freezes as his brain registers something very different about her left hand. Holding it out away from him, he rubs his thumb on her now bare ring finger. With no ability to tan, there’s no pale mark against her skin like many would have from wearing jewelry long term.

“Ellie?”

“It was time,” she says softly. “No matter where this goes, it was time to pack that away. One day, it’ll be Sadie’s, should she choose to marry.”

“It didn’t bother me.” That’s an honest answer, actually. It was never Lori’s own rings that jarred him, but Rick’s ring on that chain around her neck. Seeing that gold band brought a ghost in between them that should have warned him they may never overcome that issue. Unlike Lori or Daryl, he’s never seen Ellie with Isaac’s ring. 

It’s possible the other man didn’t wear one. Not all cops do, because metal jewelry is dangerous in a first responder profession, enough so that he’s surprised Daryl has gold rings even more than Rick's dogged dedication to tradition. Isaac might have chosen silicone, too. Or perhaps wherever Ellie’s bands have gone for safe keeping, they’re now snug beside her late husband’s.

“I know it didn’t.” Turning her hand, she laces their fingers together. “I didn’t want to linger on with it and let it become something I couldn’t get over, like Daryl. At the time, I thought having that necklace made was a sweet gesture. Now? I worry it’s a crutch he uses so he never takes any chances.”

Shane settles down next to Ellie, braving the heat and humidity to have her snuggle close. “How long was he married?”

“He and Rowe met when we lived in Louisiana, so they were together since Daryl was eighteen. Rowe was a year older. Nine years together, and it's been eight since Rowe died.”

Shane can't imagine finding someone you loved that much that young. Even Rick and Lori, young as they were when they married, were struggling because they married so young and grew more and more apart as they aged. Then again, who knows how things would have panned out for Daryl if Rowe had lived? Rick and Lori were pretty happy for the first ten years.

"And you and Isaac?"

"He was my best friend's younger brother, so I met him when we moved back to Georgia when I was fourteen. He was eleven." She grins at his arched brow and playfully swats his belly. "Geez. He was just Renee's kid brother until he graduated from college and needed a place to stay while he job hunted in Atlanta."

"The roommate that never left?" 

"I suppose." He shivers as she drags fingertips from his navel to the hollow of his throat. "I was never interested in the sappy romantic gestures. It was the things like coming off a double shift, dead in my feet, and seeing the shopping was done and the laundry taken care of."

Shane can see the appeal. Coming home after a double himself, there never was anyone who did those things for him. Most days, he was happy with that, because it also meant no fight about working too much. Some days, though, he envied Rick going home to meals he didn't have to cook and dishes he didn't have to wash.

"Maybe that's what I missed out on. Never did a lady's laundry for her."

Ellie giggles softly. "I suspect you would have turned that naughty, somehow. But you can always give it a try now. You already know it's my Achilles heel."

"Me and your scrub board? That's your sexy?" He knows his grin is that sly one that one occasional partner called his panty dropper. It gets him a kiss that promises a lot more, when the timing is better.

Her voice is husky when she pulls away. "Try that laundry shirtless, and I'll have competition."

Shane smothers laughter in her shoulder, not wanting to wake the baby. He presses a kiss to her shoulder. "We should get some sleep. Maybe tomorrow, we can manage a bed. If the Station isn't viable, I'm voting we go raid for RVs."

"Or raid the marinas for boats with cabins, if the dock survived and the Station didn't."

"Hmm. Boat could be nice, too, but probably not so much for Merry."

That earns him another kiss, a soft smile that tells him it was considering Merry priority, and Ellie tucked across him like that first night in the Greene farmhouse. Shane rubs her back gently, feeling her drop off to sleep with the ease of someone used to shift work and snatching sleep in demand. He lingers awake, feeling her breathe against him.

Daryl told him to make sure he's absolutely sure before he commits, and Shane is still not sure what that level of confidence is. It's the first time he's truly dissatisfied with his lifelong noncommitment, because there's nothing to compare this to except Lori. With all that's wrong with that relationship, he doesn't want to bring that into comparison here.

Deciding he isn't going to figure it out tonight, he lets himself start to doze, wondering if making Ellie happy really is as simple as mundane things like laundry and food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got stuck in a tailspin of indecision on where to put them. The group is too small to clear Tybee easily and quickly. But Cockspur Island just to the north has two significant locations:. Fort Pulaski and the Tybee Coast Guard Station.
> 
> So I'm throwing it to a vote. Rustic but slowly tucking in *some* conveniences at the Fort, or transforming a military facility into civilian living space. 
> 
> The Fort is a really unique piece of architecture and very tempting (google some of the photos people posted ... It's on my retirement vacation list. 😉). It really does have a moat - 7 foot deep and like 30 feet across. It also has massive cisterns for capturing rainwater.
> 
> The Station will be loosely based on some plans available online for what will replace the Tybee Station eventually. Two person berths (barracks), huge galley/kitchen, locker rooms w/showers, a lot of obsolete rooms, etc. It has a good fence, too, like most military/law enforcement facilities.


	23. More Than Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group prepares to settle into the fort, bringing in some creature comforts, and Shane and Ellie finally get privacy that doesn't have relatives three feet away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemony chapter...

** July 24, 2010 **

The Coast Guard Station is a complete bust. In time, they might be able to eliminate the stench of so many lost lives being trapped inside a poorly ventilated building in a Georgia summer, but no one wants to attempt it now. Instead, they get one of the boats running and load the bodies onboard. Shane thinks the burial at sea suits men and women who spent their careers on the water.

It leads them to reassess the fort, because it's not as antique as it seems. Granted, there's no electricity, and the visitor's bathroom plumbing will need some changes. But the features that made it secure from attack up until the civil war - the thick walls and moat - actually seem like advantages in their current world.

For now, they're safe on an island, and they can get a generator going for the well house at the visitor's center to rig up running water of some sort. They're not entirely sure about the safety of the cisterns, but Shane supposes they can test that water, too. Although he commented about RVs to Ellie, the experience with Dale's reminds him that unless there's fuel to constantly run the air conditioner, they turn into ovens. So they're assessing the fort itself.

"It's not actually hot in here," Jacqui observes. They're in a corridor not far from the old commander's quarters, out of the sun and under the shelter of brick arches.

"All that brick and dirt insulates. Like the hobbit houses in those Lord of the Rings movies." Daryl shrugs when Shane and Jacqui both give him amused looks. "Sadie loves those damned movies."

It makes sense though, how insulated it feels. "Might move the exhibit stuff somewhere safe and use the rooms with fireplaces," Shane suggests. The antique furniture is unlikely to be sturdy enough for daily use.

"Group is small enough we can all fit between the officers and enlisted if people will roommate," Jacqui muses as they make their way to the commander's rooms, following a veranda built along the landside wall to make up for the actual casements being used for rooms instead of corridors and cannons. "How hard to get into these?"

Daryl arches a brow, studying the little alcove inside the exterior veranda door that forms a false foyer to keep visitors from messing with the exhibit. "We wanting them to lock again?"

"Not particularly."

Shane laughs when a hard blow of Daryl's shoulder splinters the door around the frame at the lock. "Flimsy shit meant to keep honest folks out."

Inside the room, there's the same steady temperature, not air conditioner cold, but not sweltering hot. Jacqui opens the windows on either side of the fireplace, peering out into the moat through the port originally intended for cannon. "Need some screens for these to be really useful."

That seems to decide it for them, so they converge back outside in the parade grounds. "Need one team of heavy lifters to store the old furniture," Shane calls out. "Another set of teams to see how far we can get into Tybee to raid for furniture and supplies."

Merle steps forward. "Generator's a priority to make sure we've got drinkable water. Might be able to appropriate the diesel generator in from the Station, but a propane one would be better. Won't go bad as fast as diesel."

"Both?" Jacqui suggests, and Merle shrugs and nods. "Alright. You, me, Jim, and Morales will prioritize generators."

Her team and destination selected, the older woman skims the others, looking back at Shane. "I say we turn all the kids over to helping Ellie set up an infirmary in the officer side."

"Works for me." Shane and Daryl snag teams from those Jacqui didn't, leaving Hershel, Jimmy, Dale, and Otis to shift furniture around. They have to unload some of their vehicles first, leaving supplies in the parade ground, but by lunchtime, they've eaten and headed across the bridge to Tybee.

Raiding a hotel seems pretty straight forward. Luckily, beach hotel life didn't appeal to many with the world ending, although Shane suspects the island may have shut down to outsiders, and he can't blame them. The only two walkers appear to be staff members, amd they're put down gently.

They load the military cargo truck with beds and bedding, tying other furniture on top. A layer of sheets to pad one of the livestock trailers gives them even more haulage space. It won't be enough for everyone on this trip, but not everyone has cots and air mattresses like Shane and the Dixons do. Twin mattresses for the kids will have to wait.

Jacqui's team rolls by with their livestock trailer loaded down as Shane's teams are heading back to the fort. From the looks of what looks like a hardware store stash, they found more than just a generator or two. Following them back to the island, he estimates trying a second trip today is pushing their luck too much. 

Those left behind have been busier than he expected, to be honest. All the vehicles are unloaded, the furniture is stored away in an area they can't use, and Jimmy is rigging something under Hershel's direction that makes Shane realize at least part of the old prisoner cells on one of the seaward walls is becoming a hen house.

Caught up in carrying mattresses where Carol directs, it's another hour before Shane is free to find Ellie. He finds her in the room that lies between the two former officer's quarters turned park restrooms. From the looks of the tidy setup, this is their new infirmary.

He's hot and sweaty, but she turns in his embrace to kiss him with enough enthusiasm Shane knows he was missed today. "You got your domain how you like it?" he asks, running his hands along her shoulders. 

"Well, not entirely, but it's getting there."

Considering half of it is just well organized boxes, Shane understands. "We're going to need to get you some shelving, looks like."

"It would be appreciated. Eventually, I would like an exam table and a hospital bed of sorts, too, but those aren't priority."

The room's doors likely won't accommodate an actual hospital bed, but they'll figure something out. Shane's fairly sure Merle and Jim could probably figure out how to disassemble one, if need be. "We will keep an eye out. Tybee probably has a clinic, somewhere."

Ellie's expression clouds a little. "Once we're better settled this week, I need to lead a team into Savannah. We've got good stocks of supplies, but I want to add to them."

"Could just give us a list," he suggests, but when she frowns, he hastens to explain. "It's not Ellie the woman or Ellie the mother I'm saying that about, I promise. It's Ellie our only human medical expert I prefer not to risk."

She relaxes and even gives him a chaste kiss. "That's reasonable logic. I suppose Daryl is trained enough to find most things I need. But never fear that I am staying our only medical option. I plan on getting the EMTs, vet techs, and Glenn all up to speed."

"Hell, darlin, you can require every one of us to pass the nursing exams, and I'll agree to it."

Ellie smiles. "Might make patient privacy a littlr tricky if we're all medics." There's something to her voice in that, and she glances away before shaking her hesd. "Ready to see our upgrade from a tent?"

Shane is more than ready for that for more than one reason. The air mattress meant he isn't as tired of sleeping in a tent as some, but it's still no substitute for an actual bed. The fact that actual privacy might be forthcoming makes it even better.

She leads him toward the commander's quarters, and he raises a brow. "How did we land these?"

Ellie's grin is more smirk than anything. "Lottery actually. We decided that it is easier to house all the kids together. Boys' bunkhouse and girls'. Patricia pointed out that the smaller ones needed to be near the bathrooms at night."

She pauses at the room in between the ladies room and the corner commander's quarters. Shane sees bunk frames he remembers from other locations and realizes not everything went into storage. Since the rough wooden bunks can't be all that valuable, he likes they're being repurposed.

"Girls get this one. Sadie, Sophia, Beth, and Eliza. Boys get the one closer to the sally port, with Morales and Miranda in the room closest to it."

"Sounds fair enough. Everyone else on the north side?" There are six casement rooms on either side of the sally port.

"Yeah. Some folks will be temporary roommates or stay in tents until we get more of the casements converted on the other walls. For tonight, the kids can improvise until we get mattresses for the bunks."

Shane figures a lot of the bedding brought back will work as makeshift padding. It's not like anyone needs down comforters as blankets right now. 

The exhibit nature of their new room is a little weird, and it looks strange with the old staging furniture all removed. But like all the rooms Shane's teams delivered mattresses to, there's a bed set up, with an armload of sheets piled on it. The room actually looks too big for the queen size bed, but he suspects that won't last long once they settle in. There's a pile of things up near the front, looking like most of the contents of his tent plus Ellie and Merry's full set of belongings.

The sight of the baby's playpen reminds him that finding an actual crib wouldn't hurt. It's not like they don't have the room. He's already mentally adding a daycare to their next supply run, because they can really stock up for Merry in one of those.

"Help me make the bed?"

Shane grins at the request, and they make quick work of it. He steals another kiss, this one more making out than chaste. If it weren't for it still being daylight and anyone could walk in, he might not be able to resist the temptation of feeling soft skin bare beneath him.

"Tonight," he promises huskily. Ellie's response is to rock her hips into his, so he knows she's on board with it. "And dammit, we need curtains."

She laughs, wiggling out from under him and going to examine the two windows that face the veranda and interior parade grounds. "I think I can improvise for tonight, but add curtains or cloth to the supply run list. Or paper and tape. I'm not picky."

That makes Shane laugh, too, and he gets up to examine the inset that holds the plexiglass. "Want this pulled out or leave it for a little foyer?"

"Leave it, for now. It'll keep the weather out of the room when it's cold."

Shane likes that idea, having a windbreak of sorts. He has no idea how much wind might make it down into the basin of the fort's pentagon shape. Their brief moment of privacy comes to an end as someone comes to fetch them for supper.

The meal remains an outdoor one, although they have a variety of outdoor tables and chairs brought from the hotel's patio. It's a change from balancing food in his lap, and he can start to see civilization of a sort forming for them here. Even the limited plumbing is partially solved with the generator in place down at the visitor's center to run the well.

No one seems to mind the solar showers rigged at different points along the southern wall, even when it means carrying water from the bathrooms to refill them. Spirits are high with the idea of being indoors, even if it's more unique than any of them ever expected. Shane's one of the last to shower, caught up in a planning session.

When he pads along the veranda and opens the door, he sees only dim light from the oil lamp through towels Ellie tacked up. "That's one way to air dry yours and Merry's towels," he remarks, draping his over a camp chair that migrated inside.

Ellie just smiles, propped against the pillows while Merry nurses. "I figured it solved two problems at the same time."

"True enough." Shane reaches out to cup his hand against Merry's soft hair, marveling at her content sleepiness. "You need a rocking chair."

"When we get the other necessities done, sure. I would like that." She's got a soft look in her eyes that reminds him of how she told him it was the everyday things that appealed to her.

Shane takes Merry when she dozes off, settling her into the playpen. He activates the nightlight, adding the pink security glow to the flickering lamp light.

When he turns back to the bed, he likes the way the light plays across Ellie's pale skin. Shedding his shirt, he drops it on the camp chair. She's watching him with heavy lidded eyes, so he makes a show of removing the shorts he put on just to be decent on the walk back.

The fact that he's wearing nothing under them appeals to her, because she makes a groaning sound and rolls to her knees and reaches for her own shirt's hem. He stops her before she lifts it, taking over to raise it slowly as he lays kisses across silky skin. Kneeling on the bed puts her on a level height with him when he finally pulls the shirt over her head and kisses her.

Her response is fervent, tongue seeking his even as she presses close to him. He can feel the fabric of her bra rubbing against his bare chest and reaches for the clasp. Ellie breaks off the kiss.

"Can we leave it this time?" 

It takes him a minute to piece together why, because his thought processes are more with how she feels against him that the reality of having never been with a woman with a still nursing baby.

"I don't mind," Shane tells her. He's heard enough married men crack jokes about lactating women to figure he doesn't, anyway.

She shakes her head, though, so he lets it go for now. His reward is her snagging his hands and sliding them downward to her shorts. Shane can take a hint, sending shorts and panties to join his clothes.

As soon as he's prone beside her, he explores her body, mouth following fingers. There's the barest roughness of skin on the lower curve of her mostly flat belly. When he follows one of the barely there silvery marks with his tongue, Ellie's fingers find his hair and tug. Looking up, she's watching him with an expression as much affectionate as lustful. He grins and finds another, listening to her cry his name softly and feeling her buck her hips.

Encouraged, he seeks lower, enjoying how fast she loses control, body shuddering under him. Shane crawls up the bed, hovering over her. Ellie drags him into a kiss he's surprised she has energy or coherence for, but he's not complaining.

As he settles his hips against hers, he hesitates. "Dammit. I forgot something in my bag."

One thing about supply runs is that he didn't have to go ask for condoms from the medical supplies, but the idea of getting up and crossing the room right now is damn near torture.

"It's safe. I've got an IUD," Ellie says, catching on before he can move. 

He knows she's aware he's safe in other ways, because she gave everyone physicals at the Greene Farm. The idea of not having to go back to condoms after finally understanding what it's like without them is a relief. He might not have trusted other women's birth control, but he trusted Lori's. If he's honest, the idea Ellie might get pregnant scares him only because of the risk to her. Life with Merry tells him he's been an idiot to avoid having a family.

Ellie whines happily, his name on her lips as he brings them together. He takes a minute to bury his face against her shoulder and just enjoy the feeling of everything being absolutely right with his world. The stillness doesn't last, because he can't resist her hips working slightly under him.

Shane loses himself in the feel of Ellie, his body feeling like he's chasing something far more significant than a simple orgasm here. His life has been mostly hedonistic, but this? All the lead up and patience unlike anything else he's tried before? It amplifies everything.

When his hips finally still, body shaking with the force of completion with Ellie nearly incoherent with her own climax, Shane feels simultaneously too heavy to move and light enough to float away. Rolling to the side, but keeping her scooped close to him, he nuzzles at her throat.

"So fucking worth the wait," he mumbles.

Ellie giggles as she runs fingers along his sweat slick spine. "I'm a little fussed to have missed several nights of this."

He laughs, raising up to look at her. "You good? I didn't get too rough?"

Because he forgot, once he could feel her around him, against him, that it's been a long time for her, and a baby's birth in between. The idea he might have hurt her is abhorrent.

Her expression goes beyond affection at that, but Shane isn't sure he's ready to admit what the emotion he sees is yet. Ellie cups his face and gives him a tender kiss, taking her time to devote to making him forget his concern. She ends it with a chaste brushing of lips.

"I'm good," she tells him. "More than good."

Reassured, he fetches a soft cloth and a bottle of water, smiling as Ellie shivers and preens when he runs it across her heated, sticky skin. He follows suit with his own, slipping shorts back on and finding her panties. Nude might have been his old world preference for sleeping, but Merry isn't the only child they're responsible for.

Settling in bed beside Ellie, Shane spoons himself behind her. She fits so neatly against him that he can't help but look forward to many more nights together. Under his hand, he can feel her heart beating as she falls asleep. The steady rhythm draws him to dreams soon after, ones that feature a forever he thinks he's about ready to admit to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part of why this took ages to write is that I intended for the Judith reveal to happen before the relationship took the next step. The Muse disagreed.
> 
> Drama on the horizon, alas, because our idiot fellas won't quite understand the ladies staying silent. (And poor Daryl may get sideswiped in the drama thanks to that supply run for the PP Clinic.)
> 
> Since it's easy to lose track... Ellie and Lori confirmed the pregnancy on the 20th. This is 4 days later, with Lori starting her 10th week of pregnancy.


	24. Why Doesn’t It Feel Like Enough?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The secret of Lori's pregnancy comes out with a loud confrontation between Ellie and Rick.

**July 27, 2010**

The last thing Shane expects when he gets close to the drawbridge after a trip down to the Coast Guard Station to clear out some supplies is to hear angry shouting. Even more shocking, the two people yelling seem to be Ellie and Rick. He exchanges a worried look with T-Dog, and both of them put on a burst of speed.

Just outside their little infirmary, the redhead has Rick backed away from the room, hands planted dead center in the middle of his chest. The open rage on his partner’s normally genial face spurs Shane to shove an arm between them, shouldering Rick backward. To his surprise, Merle intervenes behind him, arms going around Ellie’s chest and pulling her back toward the infirmary doorway.

“What in the goddamned hell is going on here?” Shane barks out, not taking his eyes off Rick. 

The other man never loses his temper like this. He’s always been the cooler head, the one who anchors Shane’s tendency toward strong emotion. Against his chest, he can feel Rick shaking, panting and trying to catch his breath. Rick is choking on his own anger.

He can’t see Ellie, not how he’s holding Rick, but based on the alarm on the faces of people behind Rick, and the grunts that Merle gives out restraining her, she is equally pissed off. What the hell could set these two off? Ellie didn’t even pitch a fit when her own daddy got left on a roof to die, and now she’s all but brawling with Rick?

“Why don’t you ask Ellie about why we risked our lives at that clinic for something to end a pregnancy and not save it?” The sudden calm speech coming from Rick is like cold water, both for the contrast to his angry stance and the actual content of it.

Shane stills, no longer having to fight against Rick, remembering Daryl’s insistence on clearing out every single medication in the lockup at that clinic, not just the birth control pills and devices Shane recognized. It is a trip that Ellie insisted on, promoted as being high priority, and he never once questioned something directed by her as their primary medical provider. Part of him doesn’t want to turn, but he eases away from Rick anyway.

Ellie is pinned to her father’s chest, caught up in unyielding arms as easily as if she were a much younger child. She stops fighting as Shane looks at her, something like regret crossing her features. It confuses the hell out of him, because the implications Rick made couldn’t even begin to apply to him and Ellie.

Movement inside the infirmary draws his gaze, and he sees Lori crying in Carol’s arms. 

The connections are made one by one. Rick has never been some rabid pro-lifer, especially not after Lori’s difficulties with her pregnancy with Carl. When Ellie first mentioned needing to make that clinic run, she made an offhand comment about patient privacy. He knew something was not quite right in that conversation, but he’s still learning to read Ellie’s nonverbal signals. Now Lori looks like her world is ending, held up only by Carol’s determination to not let her fall.

When he turns to look back at Rick, his partner sees Shane’s made the connections, although Shane isn’t sure if Rick has all of them. Blue eyes meet his, frustrated tears welling up, and Shane feels pressure wrap around his chest, making it hard to breathe.

Clearing his throat, Shane shifts to look at Ellie again, scraping up what little optimism he can that he’s somehow fucking lost his mind and guessed wrong. “Ellie? What’s going on?”

Her jaw sets, despite the regret in her eyes, and Ellie firmly shakes her head.

When Shane looks to Lori instead, the slender woman breaks down. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. I was so scared. I’m sorry.”

The almost incoherent apologies tighten the imaginary band around his chest. He fights through it, using every technique for self-control the department ever insisted he learn. “Ellie?” he tries again.

Ellie pats her father’s arm, and Merle releases her without any argument. “I’m sorry. I’m Lori’s nurse first.”

To his shock and heartache, she goes inside the infirmary and shuts the fucking door.

The sob behind him draws his attention back to Rick, ignoring Merle’s troubled expression and all the other onlookers. He can’t tell if Rick is crying, laughing, or pissed all over again. Possibly all three at once.

“Makes me feel like a monster,” Rick says softly, barely audible. “That she wouldn’t just tell me. I know how bad it was with Carl. I never would ask her to have a baby she was afraid to have, Shane. Dammit, I wouldn’t ask that of her. But not to know at all?”

Shane nods mutely. He’s torn between sympathy for Rick, because of course Rick would never ask Lori to endanger herself, not in the old world and all it’s medicine, and certainly not in this one where there’s no fucking NICU to save a baby born early like Carl was. But there’s a chasm of his own grief threatening to overwhelm Shane, and while Rick may seem unaware of the entire implication of Lori’s pregnancy, Shane can do the math.

While it’s possible the baby’s Rick’s, in some narrow window of the seventeen days since Rick’s return, Ellie looked apologetic toward Shane in a way that he doesn’t think was because of Rick being his best friend. No, the math and the women’s disturbed emotions both tell him all he needs to know.

Lori is - or was - pregnant with Shane’s child.

In his distraction, Rick walks away, trudging across the parade ground like he’s a hundred years old. Shane watches him go, disappearing in the shadows leading to one of the stairways up to the top of the Fort’s walls. One part of him wants to follow Rick, but he finds his feet leading him outside the Fort instead. 

Maybe an hour passes while Shane paces the shore down near the lighthouse, battling a storm of emotions that swing from grief to anger to betrayal. What Rick said, he agrees with. He is no monster, to demand Lori carry a child that endangers her. But to never even know of the possibility is heartbreaking.

Does she really think he’s that bad a man, that he wouldn’t understand?

Glancing up at the Fort looming in the distance, he finally considers the other half of the dilemma he’s been ignoring.

Why would Ellie not tell him? Patient privacy is one thing, but they aren’t exactly in a world where that’s a given anymore. Everyone lives too close together to really keep things a secret.

Hell, even this wouldn’t have stayed completely secret. Without today’s explosion of tempers, however that happened, Shane can’t imagine that ending a pregnancy is anything easy, physically or emotionally. Just looking at Lori, he could tell she was cracking under the strain, and Ellie certainly seemed distracted and sad last night, after she packed away all the supplies from the clinic run.

That brings him even further around to who all knew. Obviously not him or Rick, but Daryl had to be told something to clear out those medications so thoroughly. Shane’s not uneducated, especially not as a single man with the promiscuous lifestyle he lived most of his adulthood. He’s well aware that not all abortion procedures are those morning after pills or the graphic surgeries the pro-life pundits claim happen. Maybe he doesn’t know the exact medical process, but Daryl was so damned careful, checking that list he had against what he bagged up.

Did the other man know? Or is he just that loyal to Ellie that he wouldn’t question what she’s sending him after? Shane hopes it’s the second, because the thought that even one more person knew, someone he spends a lot of time and effort planning for the group with, that’s almost too much.

He can’t even cope with Ellie knowing, not now.

“Shane.”

As if his tumultuous thoughts summoned the damned man, it’s Daryl, watching him with quiet compassion. Knuckling his eyes to stave off the sudden fucking need to cry, he mutters, “did you know?”

The other man shakes his head. “I thought she was just being overly cautious, since she had me get all the birth control and the morning after pills, too. Ellie’s a planner, always thinking ahead on that type of thing, especially after she learned about Merle being her daddy.”

Jesus. That’s an entirely different realm of influence Shane hasn’t even considered. “So you think she knew for sure? Not just being cautious?”

For a minute, Shane thinks Daryl will opt for the optimistic answer, but then the man shakes his head and sighs. “She knew. Not sure how long, but she knew.”

It’s one less weight off his shoulders in the mess, because Daryl’s honesty at least tells him the man won’t lie to him, even out of the immense loyalty Shane knows he holds for Ellie. “Do you know how that fight started?”

As angry as Rick was, there’s a part of Shane that worries about the fact that he and Ellie were in each other’s faces. He can’t imagine Rick ever crossing that line to lay hands on a woman short of restraining one when they arrested someone back in the day, but breaking points are sometimes surprising. Ellie certainly had her hands on Rick, although it seemed almost like she was pushing him away from the infirmary and not actually hitting him.

Daryl sighs. “According to Miranda, who was the closest, Rick opened the infirmary door after knocking. The shouting started pretty soon after. She grabbed all the kids and hurried them off down to Hershel’s room to wait it out. Hershel says next thing they saw was Ellie pushing Rick out of the infirmary like she was fit to give him a beating, and Carol ran inside the infirmary about then. I got there about when you did.”

What had Rick walked into that upset him that fast?

Does Shane really want to know the answer to that?

Sighing, he runs his hand through his hair. “Where’s Carl?” Jesus, if the boy caught even half of what’s going on.

“Miranda’s still got all the kids rounded up. She and Beth took them down to the other beach to keep them out from under foot a while. Boy knows something’s going on, but I don’t think he understands what.”

Who in the hell is going to be the one to explain all this to Carl? It’s the first time Shane thinks that maybe he understands Lori’s need to keep it secret. Maybe he and Rick would understand, but would Carl? The boy’s always wanted a sibling. He thinks Carl would adopt Sophia completely on the spot if he could, although his burgeoning crush on Sadie at least keeps him from aiming for two sisters.

It won’t be his place to straighten it out, though. That’s going to be Rick and Lori’s particular burden.

“I don’t even know what to start thinking about this, Daryl,” he says gruffly.

The other man gives him a sympathetic look. “Guess you got a choice between accepting it and moving on, or losing a lot more than a baby that didn’t make it here yet.”

Can he accept it that easily and live with Ellie like nothing happened? Watch Lori go about her day, knowing what could have been? Will Rick be able to do the same? Everything they’ve been ignoring is crashing down all at once, and Shane isn’t sure what to think.

“And if I can’t?” It’s a terrible thing to think, but it’s a risk of this poisoning his relationship with Ellie. His brain keeps browbeating him with the idea that she’s just doing her job. His heart is fucking confused and aching and wants everything to have been so very, very different.

After all Daryl’s warnings about being careful with Ellie, Shane is surprised when the hand that lands on his shoulder is gentle. “Then don’t drag it out, Shane. You can’t cope with all this? That I can understand. But you make Ellie squirm like a rat in a trap, and I’ll feed you your own balls. Got it?”

The other man leaves him on the shore then, making his way slowly back to the Fort, shoulders hunched like he’s weighed down with as many chaotic thoughts as Shane is.

Shane gives it another half hour before he follows, feet finding purchase on the rough path almost automatically. When he reaches the Fort, that infirmary door is still closed, although Carol’s back over at the outdoor kitchen they have set up. When he looks her way, she shakes her head, so he sighs and eyes the door to his own quarters, just a few doors down.

Sadie approaches, looking worried, with Merry in her arms. The baby reaches for him instantly, and Shane holds her close, breathing in the clean scent of her as she babbles against his chest. “I think she’s hungry,” the teenager tells him. “But Carol said it wasn’t a good idea to disturb Ellie.”

When he realizes she’s seeking his approval to override Carol’s instruction, Shane sighs. “Carol’s probably right. I know there’s some baby food in our room. I’ll take care of it.”

“Okay.” She gives him a hesitant smile, moving away with a few looks darted back at him over her shoulder before rejoining the other kids. They must have returned to the Fort after Daryl spoke to Shane.

Even Merry notices something’s wrong, her appetite less hearty than it usually is. He only gets her to eat half a jar, and he doesn’t think it’s because she would really prefer to nurse versus deal with him spooning sweet potatoes in her tiny mouth. In the end, he gives up and caps the jar, taking the baby to the rocking chair he decided was a priority even if Ellie didn’t want to ask for it. She dozes against his chest, snoring softly, and he tries to chase away the hurt like Daryl advised. He has Merry and Ellie, and slowly but surely, Sadie, too.

Why doesn’t it feel like enough?

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he can’t figure out why Merry’s hair is damp. Exhausted by a grief he can’t define, Shane falls asleep with the baby on his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Normally, I would never pull a cliffhanger on y'all, except y'all know that Lori is keeping the baby.
> 
> But I wanted to explore that 'other side' of the story, that having to make that decision has such a ripple effect, just as much as a miscarriage does. So, I'm stopping here before anyone learns that Lori can't go through with it.


	25. White Knight, Big Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie wakes Shane with unexpected news, and Carl throws down the gauntlet at the opposing factions of his family.

**July 27-28, 2010**

Shane wakes, neck aching from sleeping in the rocking chair. It takes him a minute to register Ellie’s concerned face in the lamplight. Groggily, he releases Merry to her care, blinking repeatedly to try to wake enough to remember why he’s asleep in the chair with the baby.

Reality crashes back in, along with grief and a trickle of anger. He does his best to ignore that last emotion, as dwelling there until he at least lets Ellie have her own say is the type of shit he used to do. Ironic that he’s drawing from Rick’s grumbles about being made to read relationship books to deal with a situation that he doesn’t think any of those self improvement books ever tackled. Ellie’s got Merry changed, first her diaper and then into pajamas, by the time he feels ready to speak.

“What time is it?”

She glances up at him from the changing table, blue eyes half hidden by a fall of her loose red hair. “Just after midnight.”

“Is Lori okay?” Because that’s the most important question he can formulate right now, it’s the one he voices. Not the rest, the ones that are bitterly flavored with accusation and hurt. The late hour seems weird, for Merry to have slept so long without her bedtime feeding.

“She’s resting in the infirmary. Carol’s with her.” Merry is starting to grumble, batting at Ellie’s chest as she carries her to the bed and scoots onto Shane’s side to start unfastening her shirt and bra, sitting crosslegged to support the baby’s weight with her legs. “You need to look at the DVD player.”

On the table is a small portable machine, already open and cued to a fuzzy screen that’s frozen in a pause. Since watching the hungry baby nursing inspires a lot of painful feelings and not the normal contentment, Shane rises from the rocking chair, shaking off the aches of sleeping in the chair, and goes to press the play button. He isn’t sure what to expect, or why in hell Ellie would insist on him looking at some video right now, but the distraction is welcome.

His breath catches so painfully he would think it was a heart attack if it were any other situation. 

On the screen, in grainy black and white, but moving… kicking tiny legs and rolling away from the ultrasound wand chasing it, is a baby. His baby. He knows he’s crying this time, touching the screen with shaking fingers. Surely, Ellie wouldn’t show him this if the baby is gone. She isn’t that cruel.

“Lori decided to keep the baby,” she says, seeming to read his mind like she usually does. “She’s terrified out of her mind, but once we had the option to actually end it, rather than just discussing the options in theory, she couldn’t. She asked me to bring you that, since you weren’t there for the ultrasound.”

Shane swallows hard, restarting the video when it stops. “It’s mine, for certain?” Christ, he hates to assume, and he doesn’t know enough about fetal development to even guess from this video.

“The baby measures for ten weeks gestation, which fits Lori’s guesses on the timeline for when she found one of her birth control patches missing.”

Ten weeks. That puts them firmly into an area of no question about the baby’s paternity. When he finally looks away from the video to Ellie, she looks exhausted in a way he hasn’t seen since the night she fought so hard to bring Merle back from the edge from the sunstroke. He thinks she could fall asleep sitting up, just like she did that night in the camp chair. Closing the DVD player, he eases onto the bed, facing Ellie and resting a hand on one of her knees.

“They have to trust me,” she says softly, not looking up from Merry. “All of the women. They have to know I’ll put their health and safety first.”

Ellie sounds so damned lost that for the first time, he considers the wider ripple effect of this pregnancy. He’s thought of himself, Lori, Rick, and even Carl. But for Ellie? The woman he’s been building a life with - a family with - he didn’t manage any more concern than hurt and anger. Hell, based on the conversation he had with Daryl, he can’t even pretend he didn’t consider that this might end. There’s no way as smart as she is that Ellie didn’t foresee that as a possible consequence for being Lori’s nurse first and Shane’s … significant other ... second.

When Shane reaches out and cups her jaw, gently tilting her chin up, Ellie’s eyes glimmer with unshed tears. He knows at that moment that she expects this to not go well at all. That’s a sense of honor that he has to respect. Even with what she stood to lose personally, she still held to that code that he thinks is as much Eleanor Dixon than any medical oath or pledge she ever took.

He’s still hurt, and that’s not something he can let flow away easily, but the anger and resentment? Those he can control. When he leans in to kiss Ellie gently, her tears fall, mingling their salty traces with the kiss, since his own self control is shot to hell, too.

When he finally pulls back, his brain connects a few more dots, and the uneasy anticipation still on her face? It yanks something even deeper in him than the rest of the day's emotions. They’re at a crossroads here, their relationship still so new they don’t have a word for it, and now this is tossed in the middle of things.

“We’ll be okay, Ellie,” he tells her. Perhaps it’s easier now than earlier to feel confident in that, because there’s proof on the table that he’s going to be a father.

That thought is like ice water as Merry stirs, wriggling in her usual demand for the second half of her nursing session. The baby cranes her neck to peer at him with eyes already showing signs they won’t be Dixon blue, but rich amber-brown like Sadie’s. As Ellie rearranges baby and clothing, the thoughts he had earlier come rushing back. 

This isn’t a simple situation of just him and Ellie, and goddammit, the idea of not having Merry hurts even more than the idea of losing Lori’s unborn child. Maybe it is because Merry is here, a beautiful and joyful part of his life despite the lack of any biological tie, a reality he can see and touch and smell the sweet baby scent of. He suspects that even if he walks out of this room right now, this child is his as long as he chooses to be her father, standing in for the man who cannot raise his daughter. Ellie isn’t Lori, emotions compounded by guilt of them finding physical comfort with Rick gone and the substitute father she made Shane into for Carl. Right now, looking at them both, how could he even have considered walking away?

In eighteen days, his life has flipped so completely around. Rick, alive. Lori, angry. Carl, confused. Then ten days of realizing he isn’t just useful as a temporary substitute. Ellie, boldly laying public claim in all her casual touches. Merry, burrowing right into his heart without a care of his past unsuitability. Sadie, mischief personified, turning to him when trouble rolled in the same way she would reach out to Daryl or Merle. 

In the old world, everything he’s experienced on a personal level in the past weeks would have been an impossible idea. The old Shane would never consider forming such a fast and fierce attachment to a woman, much less her baby and teenager. He would have been relieved, not hurt, to have had an unplanned pregnancy taken care of quietly without any drama. Crossing the line to covet his brother’s wife? Fucking hell no. The forced maturity brought on by thinking he lost Rick has set in to stay, it seems. He doesn’t want to be that lonely man again who stood to lose everything he was capable of holding dear in a puddle of blood on the side of a country road.

“Hey, Ellie?” When she looks up again, gaze a little less wary and a lot more like he’s used to seeing when she nurses the baby in the middle of the night, Shane smiles, keeping the expression slow and sweet. “I love you.”

It takes her three tries to repeat those three important words back. It’s not a hesitation on her part, but an inability to speak clearly, because she’s crying again. He scrambles up the bed, wrapping his frame around hers, arms around both of them. “We’re gonna be okay, Ellie. I’ll make sure of that.”

Shane can’t control what will happen with Lori, or even with Rick, because that’s probably a shitstorm of epic proportions just waiting to blow in. But this? He can protect this with all the stubborn determination he’s set to anything he ever really wanted.

Everything else, he’ll figure out come daylight.

That last thought, he thinks may come regret, hours later, when everyone emerges from their rooms or tents to gather for breakfast. Converting one of the casemates to a kitchen is on their high priority to-do list, but right now, mobility works with propane grills making cooking easier than campfire attempts back at the quarry. It’s one of those logic points Shane thinks all the adults failed at when they were thinking there would be some end in sight. They could have scavenged grills even back there.

The kitchens, and subsequently food storage, will be the primary focus for the electrical grid Merle, Jim, and a few others are tackling this week, while others concentrate on walling off more casemates for living quarters to get the last of their people out of tents. They have enough food and supplies gathered to spare some days from that particular activity. The downside of that is that it means everyone is in the damned Fort. 

Everyone is anxious, on pins and needles about yesterday’s drama. He avoided it yesterday, because no one was willing to chase him down other than Daryl. Today, with Ellie heading for the infirmary and Lori still missing in action, there’s only him to garner everyone’s attention for possible new information.

Rick can’t seem to decide if he’s angry at him, Shane thinks, because the other man’s eyes have been on him ever since Shane emerged from his quarters alongside Ellie, and he doesn’t even have the nominal shield of Merry since the baby’s with her mother. Before Shane can find the words to broach the subject he’s been given indirect permission to discuss, an entirely different Grimes spills the beans.

“Mom is keeping the baby.”

In a different situation, it would be comical, how everyone’s eyes swivel to Carl. The boy squares his shoulders, looking far older than twelve. It makes Shane curse the adult drama where no one sought out the boy yesterday. His words are not a question, but a statement.

“She told me she is. Showed me the ultrasound video. I went over there this morning, because no one told me anything about why she was in the infirmary all night. Carol let me in.” Carl lays his hands flat on the table beside his empty plate, expression defiant, yet determined. “I am going to have a baby brother or sister, and it is something we are going to be happy about.”

Jesus fucking Christ. With Carl’s glare turning from his father to Shane and back, the boy knows. Either he figured it out on his own, or Lori decided to be completely honest with her son instead of letting more secrets fester beneath the surface. Carl is laying down the terms to the adults in his life, just daring them to oppose his decision about it.

Rick bows his head under his son’s stare, nodding mutely.

“She’s gonna need a lot of extra looking after,” Shane manages. It draws Rick’s attention back to him, and the blue eyes narrow. What they have been ignoring simmers under the surface, and Shane suspects that only Carl’s presence stays Rick’s tongue right now.

“I know. Her body didn’t like being pregnant before, so we are going to take care of her. Stress is bad for her.” Carl looks around, seeming to look for allies among the crowd. He has them in all the children, Shane thinks, and probably most of the adults. “I was in the NICU, you know. We don’t have that now.”

“We’ll keep your mama safe,” Rick says at last, meeting Carl’s eyes with a stare so intense that Shane thinks the words are a vow made to Carl. “I promise you that, son.”

The boy’s tension eases off in a single moment, his father’s promise taken in the absolute belief of a child to a parent he still thinks can work miracles. “I’m going to keep learning from Ellie. We don’t have a doctor, but I’m going to keep learning.”

Hershel speaks for the first time. The veterinarian is generally subdued these days, still processing everything that happened on his farm. He isn’t antisocial, but the way he keeps to himself is probably still deliberate, and he didn’t object to Beth staying with the other girls in the girls’ dormitory room next to Shane and Ellie. “Between Ellie and me, I think we can manage to cover everything a human doctor would.”

“Even a C-section?” Rick asks, turning from Carl to face Hershel. It’s a frightening, yet entirely necessary, question.

“If it comes to that, yes. We’ll need to collect more equipment and supplies than we have, but I suspect Ellie already has that all planned out. She’s a bit terrifying in her efficiency.”

That inspires many to laugh, especially those who’ve known Ellie the longest. It breaks the tension that’s settled over the group. From the sidelong glances the original quarry folk dart between Shane and Rick, they caught Carl’s unsaid declaration of forced truce. Shane doesn’t think anyone from the quarry is going to need any open declaration that the new baby is not Rick’s.

Rick clears his throat and goes to drop off his empty plate and fill another. He stares at Shane for a long moment before he speaks. “Gonna go check on Lori. Think Ellie will mind giving us some privacy?”

Shane shrugs. “You need to ask her. Infirmary is her domain.”

Later, there will be a discussion, or even a reckoning, between him and Rick, but for now, his partner is focusing his attention where it needs to go the most: his wife. Whether they’ll salvage the already wounded marriage from yet another blow, Shane doesn’t know. He isn’t even sure of what to hope for, anymore, not for his own sake, but for Rick’s, and Lori’s, and Carl’s. The Grimeses have tread the razor's edge for so long, years past when most couples would have just thrown in the towel and divorced.

Perhaps they’ll come through even this. If they do, Shane hopes like hell it’s because they want it, and no more of the obligation of sticking to marriage vows they probably shouldn’t have made in the first place. There’s no community to pass judgement now, not anymore. 

Glancing back to Carl, Shane suspects that anyone that tries will experience the Grimes White Knight effect in all its near-teenage glory. He can’t imagine anyone withstanding Carl’s determination to champion his new sibling as a blessing to this world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Carl isn't quite as innocent as he was in the show. With so many other kids around, plus a fairly close association with Clan Dixon, he's a little more aware of everything around him instead of isolated.
> 
> Rick and Shane were supposed to talk in this chapter, but it ran too long to include. Next time! :)


	26. Temptation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick's solution to the complication of the baby results in a confrontation with Ellie and an ultimatum from Daryl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a happy chapter for Rick, with a lot of overreacting folks.

** July 28, 2010 **

Shane's in the middle of helping Merle and Sadie frame the kitchen casement's door when Rick finally reappears. The teen is absorbing the lesson more avidly than Shane, reminding him there are so many skills the kids need to learn for this new, hands on world. The older man is the one who notices their visitor first, when Rick just stands and watches them instead of speaking.

"Need something, Rick? Pick up a saw and pitch in rather than just stand around." Merle's drawl is only half teasing when he looks up from the measurements Sadie's just rechecked.

Rick shifts from one foot to another, looking tense and unhappy, but eying Sadie. "Need to borrow Shane a while."

Shane lays down the saw and takes off his safety glasses, figuring this isn't a discussion for kids being present. "You good with just Sadie a while, Merle?"

"We'll be just fine." Merle's glance between them is too knowing for Shane's own good. "Both you boys best come back in good condition and not make any extra work for my Ellie." Warning delivered, he returns to his work, guiding Sadie to the sawhorses to pick up where Shane left off.

They walk in silence until they're outside the Fort, heading for the same rocky little beach where Shane contemplated the upheaval in their lives just yesterday. It feels like a year ago, with so much emotion crossing in between. As much as he feels like he should apologize somehow, for once, Shane doesn't have the words to address the situation.

Rick shoves his hands in his pockets, standing rigid enough he looks like he might break, staring out across the muddy waters of the Savannah River. "I already knew about you and Lori. Figured it out the first day back. Wanted to knock your teeth down your throat, but then I remembered they wouldn't be alive without you."

Shane's chest aches at the raw emotion in Rick's voice, the conflicted hurt. "Was never something before, Rick, I swear to you. It just kinda happened, with everything gone to hell. Never once even so much looked at Lori before."

Blue eyes turn to him at last, and Rick nods. "I know. Seen you eye up women enough to know when it happens."

Shane's relieved to hear that, because one of the biggest fears he's been harboring was that Rick would think they had an affair while they thought he was still living. "Lori and Carl? They were my reason for going on when I thought you were dead. They saved me, not the other way around."

Concern flickers into Rick's expression at those words. "You've got Ellie now and her girls."

"Yeah, I do." Shane wonders for the first time how much of that charade of him and Ellie being married that Rick pushed for was calculated to see if he could divert Shane's attention to another woman and away from any possible lingering affection for Lori.

"Your own family, complete with a baby."

Unease trickles through Shane at Rick's emphasis on the word baby. "Merry is an amazing kid, Rick," he admits. "Knew I loved her before I did her mama." Once, he probably would have debated with Rick if he was in love before he ever said those words to Ellie. 

Rick's expression settles into a grim little smile, and Shane's unease is no longer a trickle, but a full blown deluge. "Then you'll understand that my family doesn't need to be splintered apart. You and me? We're good, so long as you can agree to the rules me and Lori came up with. You have Ellie and her daughter and Sadie. I have Lori and Carl, and my wife and I have a baby on the way."

There's a part of Shane that almost defers to Rick's plan instantly. He knows he's hardwired to that sort of thing after a lifetime of friendship with the one person who saw value in him when no one else did, outside of his mother and grandmother. It would be simpler to agree and let the potentially disastrous situation settle into an easy solution. He wouldn't lose the baby, simply be its uncle.

Rick continues, not waiting on a reply. "Lori's agreed she wants to save our marriage, and those are my terms."

But before he can say anything, rapidly approaching footsteps make them both turn to see Ellie coming at them with the most furious expression he's ever seen on anyone's face. It's enough that Shane actually takes a step back, baffled as to what's wrong, but instinctively uneasy. 

Shane recognizes the takedown technique taught in women's self-defense classes: the kick to the groin isn't with her knee or foot, but her shin, with enough force that his own balls ache in sympathy when Rick drops like a rock to his knees. But instead of the next step being running, as a class would teach, Ellie knees Rick in the face. Shane springs into action even as he hears bone crunching, snatching her back. 

She's too furious to realize it's him, and goes instantly into a body drop, escaping the hold he attempted. It allows her another firm kick to Rick before Shane can grab her again. The resultant scramble to restrain her without hurting her ends with him getting a busted lip from her headbutting him, but the second he makes a sound of pain, all the fight drains out of her, and she dangles in his arms like a puppet with its strings cut… and begins to sob brokenly against his chest.

At least he doesn't have to choose between distraught lover and injured best friend, because Ellie's drawn pursuit of sorts. Merle, Daryl, Jacqui, and Andrea are all arriving. Jacqui kneels to check on Rick, while the others eye Ellie and Shane warily.

"What the hell just happened?" Merle barks out. "Why is Ellie trying to beat the shit out of Rick?"

"I don't have a fucking clue," Shane says, but a suspicion is taking root. Rick spoke with Lori privately before coming to find him. He said Lori agreed to the plan of Shane's paternity not being acknowledged for the unborn baby.

It must show on his face, because Daryl frowns. "I'm thinking you just lied to us."

Sighing, Shane feels Ellie shudder against him and adjusts so that he can run a hand along her back. "Rick decided he had a plan about the baby. Was just telling me that we're good on all that happened as long as I agree the baby's his, not mine, because I already have Merry." 

The wrongness of the conversation finally dawns on him, where Rick is divvying up women and children like possessions instead of people with their own rights and opinions. "Oh Jesus," he mutters. "He said Lori agreed, to save their marriage."

"That goddamned bastard," Andrea bites out. The blonde turns and sets off back to the Fort at a dead run. 

Jacqui backs off her examination of Rick, looking disturbed. "I'll go check on her, too."

"Shane? Let me take Ellie back to the Fort." Merle's voice is carefully polite, but his expression is forbidding as he looks to Rick on the ground. Although reluctant to let go of her, Shane complies, speaking softly to reassure Ellie as he passes her to her father. Merle deals with the issue of Ellie seeming not to be able to support herself by swinging her into his arms as if she were a child, carrying her back up the trail. He doesn't want to imagine the level of adrenaline crash she's enduring.

Once it's down to the three of them, Daryl crouches near Rick, staring at the downed man without speaking at first. Shane can tell the nose is probably broken, remembering the crunch of bone earlier. Daryl offers Rick one of his ever present red bandanas, even as the injured man eases to a sitting position.

But it's soon revealed as more an obligation than a kindness when Daryl speaks, voice reverted to that coolly distant tone Shane remembers from before Rick returned. "Funny thing about men like you, Grimes, is you're worse than men like Ed, because it's harder to catch on to the damage you're doing."

"Daryl? Rick's nothing like Ed," Shane says. Rick's own reply is garbled, and Shane notices Ellie busted his lip, too, as Rick spits blood on the ground. It's definitely an argumentative reply from his offended expression. Shane thinks Daryl knew most of the story before he got here, because he just gets even more disdainful.

"Your wife and kid? They aren't your fucking possessions. You don't own them, and you sure as shit don't make some sort of agreement with another man disposing of them how you see fit to make you feel your manhood is adequate." Daryl's gaze is locked on Rick's, and Shane is rocked by the words further than his earlier revelation. It seemed reasonable, a calm conclusion of a potentially volatile situation, when Rick said it, but seen from the other side? It's horrifying.

"Wasn't saying they were possessions," Rick mumbles as the blood starts to slow.

"Wasn't?" Daryl scoffs. "Got a crying pregnant woman back in the infirmary that says she had a choice given to her that she has to say her baby belongs to her husband, or her marriage is done for. Said the actual father already has a baby and doesn't need another. Her and Carl and the baby are yours, and Ellie and her girls are Shane's." He angles his head to look up at Shane. "That the speech you got, too?"

Shane nods, caught in Daryl's stare like a rabbit in a trap, considering he already admitted most of it. There's a disappointment there, like he knows Shane was going to agree to whatever it took to keep his best friend. It's like his mixed up priorities are tattooed on his forehead.

Turning back to Rick, Daryl tilts his head, studying the other man. "Been watching you with your wife, you know. Woman that assertive has a complete personality change when her old man appears? That's what you call a red flag. But I don't think she's afraid of you, not quite like that."

"I've never hit my wife." Rick has to spit more blood to make his speech clear.

Daryl scoffs, the noise gruff and raw. "Interesting that you think fists are the only way to abuse a woman." His next movement is so fast, Shane thinks he's going to punch Rick, but instead, he grabs the other man's shirt and hauls him to his feet. Rick doesn't fight the maneuver.

"Now, this is how it's gonna be. You're gonna march your ass back to the Fort. I'll fix your nose, and then you're gonna get your shit and go put it in my tent. Where I go, you go. You come near Lori, I'll put you off this island myself. You comprehend that, officer?"

To Shane's surprise, Rick nods, blood still seeping down his face. He dropped the bandana when Daryl dragged him upright. Shane isn't sure if he's agreeing out of guilt or intimidation, but Daryl isn't hurting Rick, so he isn't intervening.

As soon as he's released from Daryl's grip on his shirt, Rick picks up the bandana and begins to trudge back toward the Fort. His posture is as defeated as Shane's ever seen him. Daryl watches for a minute before jerking his head in an obvious order for Shane to follow. He doesn't speak right away as they walk, but the fact that he wants to is obvious to Shane.

Finally, the other man clears his throat. "What Ellie did? That wasn't just anger about Lori being bullied into shit. Kid being taken from their dad? Being treated like a possession to be disposed of to smooth over a scandal? Shouldn't take a genius to fill in those blanks."

Daryl doesn't wait for a reply, quickening his pace to catch up to Rick. Shane stalls, coming to a stop and letting all of that sink in. "Son of a bitch," he curses, not sure if it's himself, Rick, or both he's naming right now.

By the time Shane reaches the parade ground, Daryl's got Rick in a chair, and he doesn't envy the man the pain of getting a broken nose reset. He somehow doubts Daryl is in the mood to be particularly gentle. Based on the strangled shout he hears as he nears the infirmary, he was right on that assumption.

There's no sign of anyone in the infirmary. Shane isn't sure where Lori's been bundled off to, and when he looks around, none of the women from the quarry are anywhere to be seen. Neither is Merle, and remembering how upset Ellie was, he tries his room next.

It's the right place, because Ellie's curled on the bed. Merle's sitting beside her, running a hand along her back. He looks up when Shane opens the door, and the sigh he gives is a painful sounding one.

"She's sleeping, but I didn't want to leave her by herself." Merle eases off the bed and joins Shane in the little foyer created by the old display glass. "Whatever cockamamie plan he proposed? Best you just forget all about that. Easy way usually is the wrong way. Take that advice from a man who fucked up most of his adult life trying the easy road versus the right one."

"Don't think Daryl or Ellie would let me be that stupid."

For the second time today, he's being studied closely by a Dixon. But where Daryl was cold and suspicious, Merle looks understanding. "Baby brother's always made the hard choice. Don't think he's capable of the easy one. Makes it harder for him to understand the more flawed and human of us."

"Gonna keep an eye on the girls awhile for you. Ladies got Lori well cared for." Merle eases around him toward the exterior door, but smiles back at him. "Just be glad you had a hellion interrupt your temptation moment," he remarks before leaving Shane to his own thoughts.

Looking through the glass at the exhausted woman on the bed and eases the door back open. Ellie's skin is blotchy from her earlier tears, and he feels guilt drop heavy over him like a cloak. Imagine if he'd been allowed to agree to Rick's plan, deciding being an uncle to his own child was enough. He suspects Ellie wouldn't forgive him for that.

Curling up with her on the bed, Shane hopes things don't spin even worse in the mess between him, Rick, and Lori.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ellie was always meant to take a swing at Rick, but it worked a little better for her to aim lower due to size difference.
> 
> Everyone is overreacting and volatile as hell here... Daryl's hyper vigilant suspicion of Rick will eventually lead to sorting out the weird mess of the Grimes' marriage, but obviously, reconciliation is really in the plans. We'll see most of that in the sequel, as the two men get to know each other and become friends.


	27. Borrowed Optimism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fort residents continue conversation to make it a good living space, while the Grimes' split continues.

** August 13, 2010 **

Two weeks after the disastrous confrontation between Ellie and Rick, nothing is truly settled within their little community. Lori avoids Shane, as well as most of the other residents of the Fort, with a determination that doesn’t surprise him. It’s not that she avoids work, but there’s a bubble of ladies that’s formed around her that Carl seems to be the only male allowed across. Once, Shane might have protested. Now? He’s just glad he’s not been exiled to the far side of the Fort with Rick.

Daryl’s been doing supply runs, leading a four man team rounded out with Rick, Glenn, and Andrea. Maggie heads a second team, leading Jacqui, T-Dog, and Morales. The trips are mixed efforts. Some bring back fresh fruit and vegetables from gardens and orchards gone wild. Others bring back other needed goods, like the canning supplies for those surplus fresh foods.

Daryl’s supervision hasn’t let up. Shane isn’t sure that Rick’s had a chance to take a piss in private. They share a tent that’s moved into one of the casements, pending enclosure once everyone else is settled. All the other single men are bunked in the Fort's former prison, but Daryl shook his head and kept the tent. Surprisingly, Rick hasn’t bucked the issue even once. Much like Lori, he avoids everyone except his supply team and Carl.

Everyone else works on improving their new home, taking advantage of August’s relatively rainfree weather. Carol leads the canning efforts, while Patricia makes sure they have two gardens put in. The smaller one in the parade ground is for more delicate plants, while the hardier ones get a field out beyond the access bridge. They won't have any harvest until late September or October, but it's underway.

The chickens have a nice coop, but generally have free run outside anywhere other than Patricia's gardens. They did have to move the horses down near the visitor center. Eventually they'll be building a pole barn for them, but Hershel keeps a close eye in them in between training with Ellie. Carl's intensity on his apprenticeship with all things medical hasn't changed.

Finishing out the kitchen’s six casement length to allow for cooking, storage, and actual indoor dining was Shane's first finished project, one that he didn’t mind being delegated permanently to. The room has electricity for the refrigerators and freezers, run from a hydroelectric system Merle cobbled together from plans found in the coast guard station. Instead of hosting a cannon, one of the exterior openings now has the cabling coming inside. 

Unlike generators or even solar power, the current of the Savannah River is unlikely to fail them. None of the living quarters have electricity, but it's no real hardship so far. Shane actually likes the softer lighting provided by the oil lamps in his and Ellie's room, and oddly enough, he hasn't missed television the way he expected when the group as a whole voted to reserve their electrical power for essentials.

Cooking is a combination of propane ovens and cooktops, hooked to larger bottles brought in by supply teams. There's a wood stove for heating the big room come winter, positioned on the dining side of the room. The kitchen's main flaw is no active plumbing yet. Water is transported by a children's wagon in big jugs from one of the bathrooms. 

Their next high priority project, putting in an actual shower room for everyone, is harder than Shane expected it to be. Merle’s background working in facilities maintenance helps, as does the day to day working knowledge Shane and Morgan contribute. The biggest issue is tapping into the cisterns in the Fort. No one really trusts drinking that water, but for bathing, it’s theoretically perfect. The original tourist bathrooms just consist of toilets and sinks, and the water for those comes from the well down at the visitor’s center. Eventually, the toilets will be plumbed to the cistern water too, saving all the potable water for drinking.

“Why don’t we treat it like a well?” Morgan suggests, staring at the rough room with the exposed cistern. “Install a holding tank, pump it full with a small well pump. Wouldn’t need a lot of electrical power for that, right?”

“Well pumps take a big jolt,” Merle replies. “But it’s not like we have a shortage of places to put them, and our electricity levels are plenty adequate for something that won't run constantly. Probably our best plan, but maybe a couple of tanks. Then we don’t have to fire up the pump every third shower.”

Solar showers have already taught everyone the value of getting wet, turning off the water, and then soaping up. This will just allow them a little more water than they can currently use. “Gonna need hot water, too, as winter sets in,” Shane says.

Merle sighs, looking down into the water. “If we’re installing a pump anyway, I say we find pressure tanks like a regular well uses. Won’t matter how far away we put the shower rooms either. Maybe see if we can find some filters, too, because those brochures mentioned lead sheeting in the cistern rainwater filtering process. Not supposed to hurt to bathe in it, but why risk it?"

Since the area they’re currently looking at is in the middle of the residences, Shane thinks that moving the showers makes sense. “Alright. Guess it’s time to start finding pumps and tanks then?”

Grinning, Merle stands from where he's been crouched to inspect the cistern. “Passed a well drilling place not far off Tybee on the mainland. One of those places that puts in the shallow wells for people to irrigate their lawns and not have to pay drinking water rates for it.”

It doesn’t take long to gather Otis to make a fourth to their group and head out. They actually hit up two of the drilling places, since Andrea remembers seeing a different one, plus a hardware store for the actual bathroom equipment needed. They return with enough purloined items to set up a dozen bathrooms.

While Merle and Morgan set to work on the pumps and exterior plumbing, Shane gathers a few younger helpers for the actual shower rooms. With the supplies they found, eventually giving the ladies a separate room seemed better than one combined room. Setting the boys and Sophia to framing the casement 'doors' and walls, he recruits Beth and Sadie to a more unique framing project.

"Why do the shower bottoms have to be built up?" Beth asks, even as she writes down the measurements Shane takes.

"In a normal place, the drain pipes would be under the floor, in the subfloor. But no one wants to break up the floors here, so we'll put the drains under a platform instead," he explains. There's a sense of history to the structure that makes wanting to damage the original as little as possible important. "And it really has to be level to seal and drain properly."

Sadie eyes the sketch. "But we don't have to do all the bathroom type stuff behind the stalls?"

"No. Plumbing is coming in from above, so we're good on that. It's those pull chain shower heads like they use at pools, so no knobs and such. Three stalls for each room for now. We'll sort out more later, if we need them." They'll still leave access space behind them. No one wants to have to remove the insulated wall the others are building to fix a plumbing problem or change the setup.

"Babies need bathtubs, don't they?" Beth queries as she takes the measurements to the table saw setup for their use. They started out with hand tools, but honestly, running the small propane generator to power the tools just makes more sense.

"By the time Merry outgrows her little plastic tub, we'll have that sorted." Ellie seems content with the idea that Merry could just shower with her, so it's not a rush. There are many months before Lori's baby even arrives.

By sunset, they have the three stalls framed and the drains plumbed for what will be the ladies' shower room. The boys and Sophia have put up the three walls the two rooms will need, with the two 'door' walls set for tomorrow. Merle and Morgan even have water lines laid all the way to the designated rooms.

"Do we work on framing for the other room or installing the shower panels tomorrow?" Beth asks, tidying away tools with Sadie.

"I say we make the ladies happy and give them a mostly finished shower room," Shane suggests.

"If they finish the doors tomorrow, they could make some shelves for each room. Then people can leave their toiletries there and stacks of towels."

"Why don't you kids put your heads together tonight and make sure we aren't missing anything useful like that?"

The teens agree, heading off to wash up before supper. One of the run teams brought back a bell that Carol now uses to alert everyone the meal's ready. The slender woman signalled already, and people are trickling in. The meal's entree is a mixture of crabs and fish caught by some of the ladies, Otis, and the Morales kids in the late afternoon.

Meal seating reflects the Grimes separation, too. Lori always sits at the table in the farthest corner, usually with Carol, Andrea, and Amy. Rick ends up closest to the door, with his run team as table mates. Even now, Rick doesn't meet Shane's eyes as he has to pass by him. Daryl assures him it's not anger, just personal issues Rick is working through.

News of the close potential for indoor showering has most excited. Shane helps his plate, realizing Ellie's seated at a table central of the dining area. Merry is in her high chair, but craning her neck to watch Shane. Pushing away renewed worry about Rick and Lori, he grins at the baby and kisses her cheek before taking his seat after greeting Ellie the same.

It gets him a distracted smile, even as Ellie continues a conversation with Patricia about the gardens. Her primary job may be the infirmary, but a youth spent following Daryl through seasonal farming means she's more likely to be helping Patricia than sitting around with no patients. She doesn't like her hands idle.

"Orchards?" Shane asks when he catches up on their conversation.

Ellie nods, smiling brightly. "Some places that sold plants will have had irrigation systems that might have supplemented rainfall. We need to collect surviving plants, especially trees and bushes. It'll take a few years for most to bear fruit, but we can plant the trees here and Tybee now, while they're viable transplants."

"And we should start a greenhouse," Patricia adds in between bites of potatoes. "Keep some of our essentials growing year round."

Shane drags his little pocket notebook out and makes note of both ideas. The thing is similar to what he used for work as a deputy, but notes now are usually much more pleasant. He, Jacqui, and Daryl tend to meet up at the end of each day to prioritize the next day's needs. "Anything else?"

"Not at the moment." Patricia is distracted as Otis sits down, drawing her into consideration with Hershel.

Ellie slips a bite of potato in Merry's mouth. "Not anything as urgent as trees and greenhouses, but we need to plan on gathering a library here of essential books. I don't see the need for formal school days, but the kids need to learn still, and so do most of the adults."

Shane makes a note of that, although he suspects it'll go higher priority than Ellie thinks. Right now, their books are haphazardly gathered for pleasure reading on other supply runs, plus Ellie's collection of medical textbooks she brought with her out of Atlanta. They need to concentrate on nonfiction in particular, as Merle's discovery of the hydroelectric plans shows. There's bound to be other useful bits in libraries nearby.

His construction crew joins them, both girls babbling ideas even as they eat, but passing him a list of necessities for the shower rooms. Most are logical, like racks or hooks to dry towels on and baskets for laundry. One makes him laugh a little that he, Merle, and Morgan didn't put it on their list. "I suppose heat in the shower areas would be nice in the winter."

Sadie laughs and rolls her eyes. "Well, if the boys and men want to freeze, that's their business. But I know all the ladies will vote for a wood stove in there."

Considering it's something they remembered for the kitchen, he agrees. Honestly, it's something they'll need to account for as they enclose more casements for private quarters, since those won't have the fireplaces the original quarters do. "I'll let Daryl know he needs to work in a raid for extras."

"At this rate, he's going to just pack up the home improvement stores and stash them on the island," Ellie remarks, and Shane laughingly agrees.

Ironically, it's exactly what Daryl proposes when Shane meets with him and Jacqui. They have one store secure, where they've been raiding as needed.

"Load up a couple semi trailers and just park them on the island to get what we need when we need it. I'll need to borrow Merle and see who else can drive a big truck, but makes too much sense not to."

Shane and Jacqui can't argue that, and it'll solve Ellie and Patricia's requests for plants and such. Just the books left to plan for, and Daryl's not beyond planning a similar raid at local libraries. When Jacqui leaves them, Shane lingers.

Daryl sighs, not needing him to ask. "He's getting there. Had him sit with Carol a while as she was finishing supper, since Lori was hanging laundry. Let Carol tell him about Ed's behavior that wasn't smacking her around. We've all had turns with it, me and Merle and Hershel. He's about to where Ellie needs to take a turn."

Shane stiffens at the idea. Ellie bounced back from her distraught behavior the day she attacked Rick, but she's staunchly on Lori's side and doesn't hide it. As much as he knows Rick wouldn't do anything physically, he hates the idea of Ellie getting distressed. Rick may be his best friend, but Shane's had time to understand Rick's good at manipulation to seem like he's been misunderstood and not in the wrong. It's cowardly, but one reason Shane's avoided him.

"It'll be fine, Shane. Ellie had a bad day when everything blew up, but she's had time to settle things in her head. It'll be good for Rick to hear from a child stolen from her father what the consequences can be." Daryl's expression holds that vaguely guilty look it always does if the subject of Ellie's nearly two decades of hidden paternity comes up.

"It's her choice, either way," Shane admits, sighing. In some ways, the rift between Ellie and Rick is more concerning than the others, because she doesn't have years of shared history to fall back on like he and Lori do. Finding common ground is going to be a lot harder.

Daryl nods and slides his chair back, and Shane follows him out of the kitchen. While Shane heads for Ellie and the game of cards she's joined at an outdoor table, Daryl makes his way toward the casement his tent is in. Glenn's relaxed in a camp chair, obviously being Daryl's backup to babysitting Rick while the meeting was underway.

Resolving what they can needs to be done to allow more than Rick a return to a normal routine. Shane just hopes Daryl's optimism pays off. No one needs another blow up between Rick and Ellie. Pushing the thought away for the night, he steals Merry away from her mother for cuddles. It'll work out. Shane just has to borrow the optimism.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a transition chapter to allow folks to reconcile the peak of events surrounding the pregnancy reveal...


	28. Protective Older Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Ellie spend an afternoon burying the hatchet between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ellie wanted to drive the bus for this chapter.

**August 20, 2010**

Ellie finishes planting the last of the sweet potato slips, dusting her hands off before surveying the greenhouse. They'll grow along the greenhouse wall, while the interior row will be beets. Both grow well in the raised beds that line their first completed greenhouse.

Merry snores softly in the swinging cradle near the open door, used to the summer heat in a way only a child who has done most of her growing without air conditioning can be. Ellie checks on her, feeling that deep seated contentment that just seeing her daughter always gives her. Every day it seems her features shift and change more and more like Isaac's. Drawing her fingers along the baby's hair gently, she heads back to work until a cleared throat draws her attention to her visitor.

"Shane said you were working out here." Rick shifts uneasily, looking around the greenhouse. "Is it safe, just you and the baby?"

Ellie shrugs, sorting through her basket for the next packet of seeds. The greenhouse has four long rows of raised beds, with gaps every ten feet in the rows to cross to the next. Selecting the turnips, she begins her first row. "Doubt the dead can get past the barbed wire without making a ruckus."

"And if it's not dead?" 

Ellie shifts the unbuttoned shirt she purloined from Shane to wear over her tank top to show her shoulder holster, gun and extra magazine snug in their places. A radio is hitched on her belt, part of the new system Glenn's masterminded. "Otis, Morales, and half a dozen kids are down under the bridge, fishing. I'm not entirely alone."

Rick looks a little relieved, so she lets the question slide. She's willing to give him the benefit of the doubt that he's truly worried about Merry's safety out away from the Fort's secure walls. But Ellie's used to working with Merry alongside. It's just a fact of life now.

"Daryl suggested I come talk to you."

Ellie pauses in her planting to eye him thoughtfully. "Grab a seed packet and help as we talk then."

Rick shuffles through the basket and brings the packet to her. "This okay? How should I plant them?"

"See the string grid that lays everything out in squares? On your side, in the center, plant two seeds about half an inch deep." She keeps on with her own planting, quick and methodical.

"Why are you planting so many more per square?"

Although it's obviously a way to delay any serious conversation, Ellie answers. "This is square foot gardening. How many seeds per square depends on the type of plant. Your cauliflower are big plants, so one per square. Two seeds ups the odds we get a successful seedling."

"What are you planting?" Rick begins work, careful and methodical as he plants.

"Turnips, so nine per square since they don't need to branch out a lot."

"Daryl told Glenn you two used to work seasonal farming." Rick looks up, uncertainty on his features. "Didn't anyone ever question how young you both were?" 

"As long as I went to school, no one really questioned where we lived or what Daryl was doing. The false paperwork he got was really good." Ellie shrugs, reaching the end of the row section and silently debating if they really needed the entire greenhouse length of turnips before continuing. "I made sure I wasn't a troublemaker at school to draw any notice."

"I can't imagine Carl having to do that. What you or Daryl did."

Sighing, Ellie pauses and studies him long enough he looks up. Even Lori defends him, to an extent, as a nice guy who's been spoiled all his life. "Most people can't, if they didn't grow up like we did. You led a charmed life, Rick, and so did Carl, until you got shot. Most people aren't so lucky."

Most don't have the absolute shitshow of a Dixon childhood, either, but Ellie tries not to begrudge that. She's seen enough damage done in smaller measures, like Shane's sparse homelife or Glenn's overly demanding parents. It puzzles her that years as a cop didn't mature Rick more.

"So I'm being told." She hears the package crumple and looks up to see Rick has sat down on the edge of the garden bed, so she stops working, too.

"It's hard to tell which made me angrier, the way you upset Lori or the fact you thought children were toys to be traded about." Ellie watches him flinch, but continues. "Lori and I didn't get along until recently, but I've never seen someone wilt so quickly as she did at the quarry. Honestly, I thought you were a man like Ed, at first."

Rick shudders, a full body reaction that wracks his too thin frame. "I would never hit Lori or Carl."

"I'm sure the others have gone on endlessly that there's as much harm in words and behavior as fists." When Rick nods, she continues. "Have any of them asked you if you actually are in love with your wife?"

Wide blue eyes meet hers. "Of course I love Lori."

"I didn't ask if you loved her, Rick. I asked if you're in love with her. It's different, and I don't think you've been in love, either of you, for years."

He's so quiet, avoiding an instant denial, that she knows she's hit the nail on the head. Sitting down on the opposite side, Ellie sighs. "Rick, you've been wrapped up in the image of the perfect family so long that when it was shattered, your first instinct to fix it was to steal a child. No one expects you to be perfect here."

The chasm between Shane and Rick is like a raw wound in Ellie's lover. She knows that Lori and Shane will be just fine, eventually, but Rick and Shane seem far more fractured.

"I have no idea how to accept it, even now," he admits. "How does it not bother you that he's having a child with another woman?"

"The easy answer is that the baby predates me in his life, even if I didn't know right away."

"And the hard answer?"

"Children are a blessing." Ellie catches Rick's gaze, watching him solemnly. "Out of the absolute horror and grief they experienced, in losing you, they created a precious new life. The baby isn't a betrayal, Rick. It's hope." Ellie looks away, seeing Merry, but hearing the ghost of hospital machinery in her mind. "Have you ever set vigil with someone who is dying?"

"No. Both my parents died without a lot of warning."

"People like to say it's easier if you can say goodbye. Maybe if they're lucid, it is. But when it's a coma? There's not a damned bit of comfort for the family in that." She glances sideways at Rick, who looks stricken - and like he's finally understanding something.

His voice is hoarse. "You're not just talking about my coma."

Trying for a smile and failing, Ellie looks back to her sleeping daughter. "The three days Isaac was in a coma were absolute hell. I cannot begin to imagine weeks of that overwhelming despair. You go numb after the first day or so. Try not to understand the odds. Pray because nothing else works. Have nightmares while you’re wide awake, and when you sleep? Those are even worse."

Quiet tears escape at last, and she's a little surprised when Rick comes to sit next to her and takes her hand. She allows it, because he needs to hear this, needs to understand, and she’s honestly not sure she can say it without that attempt at comfort.

"Isaac almost rallied. They were weaning him off the medication that kept him sedated through the worst of the surgeries and pain when he had the stroke. It was so catastrophic that if he hadn't been on a ventilator already, he would have died. So I had to give up on hope and prayers and face those fucking odds."

Looking toward Rick, she's surprised to see the glimmer of tears in his eyes. "You took him off life support."

"I did. They took away the machines. He breathed on his own for about three minutes. His heart? It didn't want to give up. Didn’t know that everything that made Isaac who he was was gone and could never come back. For five minutes, it fought. I could feel it under my fingers on his chest." Her fingers on her free hand twitch against her knee, tapping out that memorized rhythm.

“I’m sorry,” Rick says softly, sympathy evident when she glances toward him. “I remember watching the news, back when it happened.”

Ellie takes a deep breath. “I figured you would have. I didn’t go home for those three days, but when I did, the other officers’ wives didn’t leave me and Sadie on our own, and it wasn’t just ones from his department showing up. Cops’ wives rally around our own the same way cops do their fellow cops.” There’d been a lot of fire department wives, from Daryl’s division, rallying around Daryl’s ‘sister’ the same way they would have if Isaac had been a firefighter instead of police.

“Lori mentioned the same happening when I was in the hospital.”

“I found out I was pregnant the afternoon of the funeral. Sat in my bathroom, hiding from all the guests, just staring at that little stick. I’ve never been more terrified in my life. It should have been something happy.”

“Something to share with Isaac.” Rick squeezes her hand.

“Yeah. Daryl moved in, and Merle quit his job in Savannah and moved to Atlanta. I know it’s hard to believe in Merle having a gentle nature, but he’s the one who kept telling me over and over what a blessing Merry was, until I believed it.”

“And that’s how you see the new baby? A blessing?” He’s thinking it over, Ellie thinks.

“When we first rolled into the quarry camp, Lori and I managed to get in an argument the first day. She took one look at Merle and Daryl, and well, you can imagine how that went.” Rick laughs, and Ellie actually smiles at him. “Yeah, exactly like that. I thought Lori was the most dictionary perfect definition of uppity bitch I’d ever met by the end of that day. I knew who she was, because it was impossible not to make the connection with that last name, but I didn’t care if she was grieving, not then.”

“What changed your mind? You two weren’t exactly getting along when I came, but you weren’t really fighting.”

“I went out hunting. Took cover when I heard movement, but it was Lori. Had that little red bucket with her like she was hunting mushrooms, but she just found an overturned tree and sat down and God, Rick, how she cried.” Ellie remembers starting to go to the other woman, feeling guilty she hadn’t spoken up in camp, when Shane came into view. “When Shane came looking for her, he wasn’t in much better shape. Losing you? It nearly killed them, and they were hiding away to grieve because they had to be strong for Carl.”

“Shane said that Lori and Carl were his reason for living after he thought I died.”

Ellie wipes at her face with the tail of her shirt. “Yeah, they were. Thing you need to understand here, Rick, is that the baby’s paternity isn’t an either or situation. Shane isn’t Merry’s biological father, but would you say he loves her any less for it?”

“No. I’ve never seen him so absolutely head over heels for anyone as he is about Merry.”

It’s something Ellie’s aware of. Shane loves her, and it’s intense in a way the quiet relationship she had with Isaac never was, and he’s fond of Sadie. That will become more in time, but Sadie has Daryl and Merle, so she’s not as dependent on Shane as Merry is. What she sees between Shane and Merry is what her daughter deserves from a father. 

“I know. And being her father? That won’t change even if we split up tomorrow. If you want to be the new baby’s father, one of its fathers… you can be. There’s no such thing as too much love for a baby, Rick.”

He’s quiet, breathing soft and even next to her, and his hand is still warm within her own. She thinks it’s more to draw comfort from her than give it now.

“Two fathers. Guess people do that all the time in blended families, don’t they?” Rick manages at last.

“They do. Think about it. If Shane died in the line of duty, you would have stepped up for any child he had, wouldn’t you? Just like he did for Carl.”

“Of course I would have.”

She smiles at him. “It’s even better this way, you know. He didn’t have to die for you to love his child as your own.”

Rick finally lets go of her hand, standing and walking away to stare out one of the open windows of the greenhouse. It’s too hot to keep the area enclosed right now, and there’s a nice breeze coming off the river that makes the man’s unruly curls drift against his face. She lets him have the moment, returning to her planting. By the time he speaks, she’s reached the end of the row and begun another.

“Are you in love with him?”

It’s not the question she expected, so Ellie turns to see Rick staring at her. There’s a protective cast to his features that makes the worry that Rick and Shane couldn’t reconcile this melt away completely. This isn’t the man struggling with society’s teaching telling him he’s been cuckolded by his wife and best friend. This is Shane’s brother, protecting Shane like he’s been all the younger man’s life. It's the same thing she sees from Daryl when he looks at Shane.

“Yes. As much as I ever loved Isaac.” She smiles reassuringly. “And if that ever changes? I won’t take Merry from him, Rick.” 

Breaking things off had been a possibility, she knows, when she chose her medical role over her relationship with Shane in regard to keeping Lori’s pregnancy private until the woman made a decision. When she finally got back to their room after everything blew up that day, finding him asleep in that rocking chair with Merry on his chest? If she hadn’t already been in love with the man, she would have fallen hard and fast right there.

“Good.” He swallows hard. “I know I meddled, back at the farm. It was selfish, because I knew something happened between him and Lori, but at the same time…” Rick musses his curls with one hand, sighing. “He was starting to look at you like he’d been lost in the darkness all his life and finally found his way out. Shane… he needs to be needed, but I didn’t think he would make a move without a little push.”

Ellie chuckles, remembering how carefully still Shane was when she woke up back at the farm, using him as a human sized body pillow, and the conversation that followed where he asked her so uncertainly what they were doing with the growing flirtation. She’d known she cared for him before that night, ever since they stood at the end of that empty bed that once held Rick and she witnessed his grief and love for his brother that matched what had changed her world when she watched Isaac the same way.

“He’s not a substitute for Isaac.” It feels like she needs to say that, to the one adult who loves Shane as much as she does, even if in an entirely different way.

“I’m glad.”

Merry makes a disgruntled sound from the cradle swing, and Rick turns with that instinct all parents have for a waking baby. He’s never really interacted with the baby, so Ellie adds another layer to the peace they’re trying to put between them. “Why don’t you go give her a cuddle, Uncle Rick?”

He snaps his gaze back to her, looking startled, but then he smiles. “Guess I should.”

If Ellie finishes the planting without him while Rick plays with Merry, she doesn’t mind one bit. How things will play out between Rick and Lori, she has no idea, although she hopes the couple will stop pushing themselves into a relationship that hasn’t worked for either of their happiness for years. But watching Rick go from lost to protective? He and Shane will be just fine in time, and that’s the outcome Ellie personally finds most important for the adults involved in the complexity the baby brings into everyone’s lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Given time, even on the show, I think Rick would have gotten over the "mine, mine, mine" stage about Shane fathering Judith.
> 
> Unless something changes, there's probably one or two more chapters for this story, with the sequel for Daryl/Glenn up next, _Antiquity of the Soul_. The sequel will probably be about half the size of this story, since it doesn't need all the worldbuilding for the AU. It will also backdate a bit, showing both Daryl and Glenn's interactions from arrival at the Fort, and cover some of the issues with Rick from a different POV than Shane or Ellie would have.


	29. Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merle sits down with Shane for a talk about a dark part each of them have in their pasts, which leads to Shane asking Ellie if Merry looks like Isaac.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains non-detailed discussion of predatory female behavior on underage males.

**September 3, 2010**

As much as Shane acknowledged to himself that what festered between Ellie and Rick was a wedge to anyone healing, he didn’t quite expect how much easier it was to breathe once his brother and Ellie returned to the Fort that evening two weeks ago side by side. It made something raw inside Shane’s soul start to heal when it was Rick carrying Merry, his attention on chatting with the baby like she was the most brilliant conversationalist on the planet.

That hasn’t stopped, actually. Merry has always loved anyone talking to her like she’s a full grown adult and not an infant, which is probably why he and Glenn appeal to her so much. Now she’s landed her a third chat partner.

Instead of going on supply runs with Daryl, now Rick seems to be Ellie’s shadow. Shane hasn’t asked either of them what it’s about, not yet. His best guess is that it’s something to do with Carl. The boy avoids Rick in general, but he can’t seem to hold to it if Ellie calls him up for a lesson.

They’re in the midst of a medical lesson right now, Rick and Carl actually sitting side by side over some sort of practice thing Ellie found for teaching stitches. Their looks of concentration are nearly identical, nothing but serious intent on their features, while Ellie looks on, making small corrections. Merry sprawled on a blanket on the grass near their table, kicking happily in between gnawing on her feet. Most of his family, all in one line of sight. He smiles.

“You know why I see you as a good man for my girl?”

Merle’s drawl behind him nearly makes Shane jump out of his skin. He turns, skin heating a little at being caught slacking off on the project he’s supposed to be helping Merle with up on the battlement. “Why?”

“Because you’ve been watching all of them down there with this expression like everything dear in your world is all in one place.” Merle moves to the edge of the battlement and sits with a grunt, dangling his legs over the edge. He pats the grass beside him, and Shane sits, unsure what’s coming, other than Merle obviously wants to talk.

“It is most of what I hold dear,” Shane admits as he settles on the grass.

The older man turns his head, gaze going to the clothes lines, where Lori’s working alongside Jimmy and Beth to tackle the never ending task of keeping everyone in clean clothing. Lori doesn’t avoid people the way she did at first, sticking solely to the women for company. It’s shifted to less staying far away from Rick to just not speaking with him now. 

“It’s not…” Shane stops, remembering how Merle had seemed to understand, back when everything blew up. He’s not asking Shane to justify caring for Lori beyond the baby.

“I know.” Merle sighs, shifting back to watch Ellie. “Thing is, I’m glad you can look at the mother of your child and have that positive feeling.”

Shane swallows hard, thinking of Ellie’s sadness about the unique relationship she has with her father. If he’d agreed to Rick’s scheme, would he have sat like this one day and looked at his own child with a painful wistfulness?

Merle keeps talking. “When I first found out that Ellie was my daughter, not my sister, I didn’t take it well at all. I wasn’t sober then. Didn’t see much need of it, to be honest. Daryl had always looked after Ellie, and the older she got, the more I could see it was mutual. They had each other, and me? I had whatever poison made me feel a little less useless to the world.”

“Why did finding out she was your daughter change that?” It’s something Shane’s been curious about. He’s heard of lesser reasons for an addict or alcoholic going sober, and fatherhood would be a strong motivator.

“Thing is, walking away from my kid sister was one thing. By the time she came along, I was a lost soul anyway. Spent most of the years between fourteen and eighteen in juvenile detention. The day the judge suggested the Marines as an alternative to my first round of adult prison time was the first time I thought I might do something other than just that.”

“How’d that work out for you?” 

“Wasn’t half bad at first. Boot camp on Parris Island in the middle of summer will certainly make you forget all about craving any drugs.”

“No shit.” Military training in South Carolina in the summer sounds like a special kind of hell, Shane thinks, but if you survived it? Badass would definitely feel like your middle name.

“Made it through most of my enlistment, too. Six months shy of my four, I was even thinking it might not be a bad life to keep up. Maybe even slip back home and get my old man to sign over the kids when he was drunk off his ass.” Merle rubs at his jaw, thinking. “Daryl was about thirteen then and Ellie was eight, and my mama had been dead pretty much since I enlisted. Could have worked out. Better than what they had, anyway.”

“Why didn’t you?” 

“Had a bastard of an NCO get wind of what I was asking about, whether the Marines would even allow me to take custody of them. Said some things like most do about people like me and being inbred. The implications about why I would want custody of Ellie…”

“Jesus Christ. Bet you didn’t take that well.”

“I punched the bastard so hard he spit five of his teeth on the ground.” Merle’s laugh is bitter. “If it had been anything less than an NCO, I might have gotten off. Busted a rank or two, maybe not allowed to reenlist. Instead, I spent sixteen months in Leavenworth.”

Shane does the math, remembering that Merle had been doing time when Daryl disappeared with Ellie. “Was that when they rabbited?”

“It would have been better if it happened then. Got home from Leavenworth, and anything good that came of me being in the Marines was erased by the fact that the local law, they knew what I’d done when I got home. Didn’t matter that they’d have done the same. Only mattered that I was a Dixon with a federal record. That’s all they saw, them and anyone to do with me taking them kids out of that trailer as long as my old man opposed it.”

After doing the same himself, more times than he can count, Shane wonders just this once, whether some of those men might have risen beyond the low expectations if they hadn’t been expected to fail. He shifts uneasily, but the past is the past. Nothing he can do about it now except not be as pessimistic about potential.

“Still was doing okay. Had me a job next county over in a mechanic shop. Owner was an ex-con, too. Didn’t much care about Leavenworth, other than it meant I didn’t look down on him.” 

Merle’s hands are white fisted, gripping into the grass. It’s not anger Shane’s sensing, but something more like fear. “Then she pulled into the garage one day, cool as a cucumber, like she didn’t have the first fucking clue who I was. I picked a bar fight and landed a nice long stretch behind bars that self same night.”

“She?” Shane wishes he didn’t say it the moment he does, because he knows. Knows beyond a doubt that the woman pulling into that garage was Ellie’s mother.

Merle just looks at him, eyes blue and clear. Same as Ellie’s, the only visible trait she shares with her father. When he looks back at the little group studying, his voice is emotionless. “Daryl tells her that she looks just like our paternal grandma, but he wasn’t old enough to know her. Mama told him one hell of a lie. Only thing Granny Dixon and Ellie have in common is red hair.”

Oh. Jesus fucking Christ. Shane swallows hard as he looks at Ellie’s delicate features, ones that he thinks Merry will grow into. While it’s not unusual for females of a family to not resemble the males closely, odd as genetics can be, he knows what Merle sees now. He clears his throat, feeling at a loss. “How do you reconcile that?”

“For a long time, I thought I was just fucked in the head, you know. Ellie was young enough when they came back to Georgia that it was easy to tell myself I was seeing things. Then I couldn’t ignore it anymore because Ellie was telling me it was true. I spent a solid month drunk more than I was sober.”

“What stopped you?”

“Woke up after a drunk covered in my own vomit. One of those godawful ones where I was so far gone I pissed my damn self. You know what my girl did, finding me like that?” Shane shakes his head, even though he has an idea. Ellie’s a caretaker at heart, and she loves Merle. “Bundled my stinking, hungover ass into the bathroom, got me started on getting clean, and cleaned my little hole in the wall of any sign of what I’d been doing.”

“Sounds like her.”

“I realized I could keep down my father’s path, and my girl wasn’t going to abandon me to it. She was either gonna spend all her bright promise on keeping me alive, or she was going to have to bury me like we buried my mama. Went to rehab. Did my twelve steps after, stuck with AA until the world ended.”

They’re quiet a while before Merle speaks again. “Rick said something to me the other day that makes me think you had something similar happen to you. Maybe not the Ellie part of my tale, but the woman.”

Shane freezes, turning to look at Merle, whose gaze is far too understanding. He can deny it, because it would be easy enough to say he was just being stupid, talking to Rick about Mrs. Kelly. “It wasn’t the same. I was sixteen… then seventeen.”

“And if we had someone like that woman eying Jimmy over there, would you say the same? Or Carl, if he was a few years older?”

Looking to where Jimmy is laughing, as carefree as any teenager in the apocalypse can manage to be. He’s got soap suds clinging to his hair, and whatever happened to put them there has Beth and Lori giggling. The teenager has the size of a grown man, wide shouldered and slightly taller than Shane and Merle both. But Shane’s spent enough time with him to remember no matter how grown Shane felt at that age, he knows at thirty-five that he was as much a kid as Jimmy is.

“No way in hell I would allow it.” The truth in those words is resolute.

“Society trains boys that as long as the woman’s pretty, he’s lucky, no matter how fucked up it is that a grown woman is looking at a boy that way. That’s how you saw it, right? Why you didn’t think anything about telling Rick like it was just another pretty girl from your youth?”

Shane nods, taking a deep breath. “If a male teacher had done the same…” The idea of a grown man looking at Sadie like that? Jesus. She’s the same age Merle was.

“He’d have been fired, at least, and done jail time most likely.” Merle sighs, rubbing at his pants leg. “She was supposed to help me report the abuse. Get me and Daryl out. Didn’t work out that way for us.”

It probably confirmed Merle’s lifelong distrust of anyone in a position of authority. Shane wonders what part of him leads back to Mrs. Kelly and what started with her summoning him off the high school running track to help her with equipment in the gym. If he’s honest, it probably circles back to the fact that Lori and then Ellie are the longest he’s stayed around the same woman.

“I know it doesn’t seem like something all that big,” Merle tells him. “Not now, and you didn’t go off the rails like I did. But it’s part of your thinking, who you know yourself to be. And I figured that maybe you needed to start looking at it the correct way, so that it doesn’t bite you in the ass one day.”

“I suppose so.”

“Ellie’s got her own baggage from what happened to us. You saw some of it when she lost it with Rick.” Merle indicates how Rick and Ellie are working together now. “They’ve cleared the air and made their peace. You might want to finish the job, you and Rick and Lori. Not separately, all piecemeal where not everything gets said. Together.”

“I will.” It’s an easy enough promise, because he’s been working his way up to it anyway.

Merle pats him on the shoulder before getting to his feet and moving back to the rain collector they’re building. “Do me a favor though?”

“Sure.” Shane gets up himself, retrieving his discarded hammer. “Whatcha need?”

“Please don’t ever tell Ellie who she looks like. That’s the one truth I don’t want her ever told.”

Although there’s a small part of him that thinks Ellie would absorb the information and understand, he also knows she won’t condemn him for keeping this one secret for Merle. If the man hadn’t been concerned about a shared history of sexual abuse, he never would have told Shane, he knows. “I won’t, not as long as it’s better she doesn’t know.”

Merle just smiles slightly and gives a short jerk of his head. “I’ll trust your judgment on that, if you think it’ll hurt her to not know.”

Added to Merle’s comment earlier about him being a good man for Ellie, Shane feels something settle inside him in a way he’s not used to. Although Merle’s fatherly relationship with Ellie isn’t anything typical, it’s yet another time that the man’s accepted and approved of Shane being with his daughter. Paternal approval is certainly something he’s never had before.

For all that he spent his adult life not wanting anyone’s approval but occasionally Rick’s, it sure as hell feels good. 

The part Merle asked him to keep secret stays with him the rest of the day, and Shane finds himself watching the man more than he ever has before. There’s a worry, just a little, that what Merle might somehow bleed into his behavior with Ellie. But Shane can’t see it, not one bit. 

The man adores Ellie. It’s the same open affection he’s shown her since the days of the quarry, the relationship the non-Dixons misread as marital instead of filial. Ellie and Daryl will always be siblings in nature and behavior, he thinks, but over time Merle and Ellie have shifted. Without the pissed off prejudice of the initial confrontation he had with Merle, he never would have seen this as anything other than what it is.

Merle may see Ellie’s unnamed mother ghosting in his daughter’s features, but he loves her without a doubt. He doesn’t have to worry about either of them, whether he tells Ellie or not.

“You’ve been awfully quiet tonight.” Shane turns from settling Merry in her little crib when Ellie speaks. She looks concerned, but it’s a mild thing. He doesn’t think she’ll push if he deflects.

“Just thinking over some things Merle and I talked about today.” He reaches into the crib, refastening a button on Merry’s onesie that’s come undone. Her coloring doesn’t show much of her maternal heritage. Like Sadie, her skin will probably tan in the sun, and the dark curls and darkening eyes will make her end up looking more like Shane than Ellie. 

“Merry looks like her father, doesn’t she?” he asks, considering the situation in a different light. “Her coloring, I mean. It’s like Isaac’s.” It’s hard to tell just yet, if the features he thinks look like Ellie, like her smile and cheekbones, will endure fully through growing up. 

Ellie comes to smile down where Shane’s gently holding Merry’s tiny hand. “I suspect in the end, she’ll look a lot like Sadie, but yeah, all three of the siblings looked as much alike as it was possible for a family to look.” She presses a gentle kiss against Shane’s cheek. “C’mon. I’ll show you.”

He’d have to be blind to miss that like Lori, Ellie squirrelled away photo albums when she left the city. Not as many as Lori, but something tells him that Ellie’s probably not as prolific a collector, especially with Merry so young and only having Sadie with her for two years. Settling at the little table with one of the albums, he’s treated with a series of pictures.

“I know I teased you once, but damn, he’s a cute kid, you know.” Shane lays a finger beside a photo, which looks like a school football game. Ellie’s fifteen or sixteen, posed cheekily with fellow cheerleader, a girl who looks enough like Sadie that it’s only Ellie’s age that gives away that it’s not the teenager Shane’s adopted into his family. The boy with them? He’s Carl’s age, but Shane sees what Ellie means. “What was her name?”

“Renee. It’s hard to know whether I should say it was or is. Not sure we’ll ever know what happened to the Navy at this point.”

Shane understands, especially after Daryl led a jaunt to Jacksonville to find the city and the bases there a complete loss. “Stick to is, like Glenn does about his parents and sisters. Unless Sadie needs to hear different.”

She smiles and nods, leading him through photos that show the girls growing up. Isaac appears in every fifth or sixth one, even as the girls progress into college. Daryl’s in plenty of them, along with a tall and slender man. Shane doesn’t think to ask about him until he’s posed with the girls and Isaac in their college graduation photo.

“Who’s the guy?” Daryl was married, he knows, but there’s been no signs of a woman in any of the pictures that would be from the era that covers that. The second he asks, he knows, even before he sees Ellie’s smile.

“That’s Roland. We met him in California.” She traces the edge of the man’s figure. “God, I miss him.”

“Daryl’s husband.” The man’s blond, looking ever bit the surfer boy Shane couldn’t see in Daryl when Ellie talked about watching Daryl surf. Marriage wouldn’t have actually been legal for the pair, but Shane knew a few couples who had their ceremonies regardless of whether the state would issue them legal paperwork.

Smiling at him, Ellie just nods and turns the page, not commenting on the surprise he didn’t quite hide. The next time she stops, it’s a different college graduation. Ellie and Renee frame Isaac, Renee in uniform, and all three look overjoyed. The pose reinforces what Ellie stated, and Shane glances at Merry’s crib. “Yeah, I can see it now.”

Only time will tell, but he’s going to hold out hope for Merry to look like her father and aunts. Will Merry eventually look like Ellie’s mother, too? Ellie’s beautiful, and he loves her and can’t imagine her looking any other way. The woman doesn’t deserve that legacy, but Isaac does. Shane just hopes he gets it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you needed to skip the chapter, please feel free to ask for a summary in the comments.
> 
> This probably won't be the last time this series addresses what happened to Merle, as his story in the series can't really be told without it.
> 
> One more chapter for Shane and Ellie's story, which will be followed by Glenn and Daryl's.


	30. At His Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie grows tired of the distance between Rick, Shane, and Lori and meddles. An impulsive matchmaker learns there's hope for Glenn's crush on Daryl. Shane finds himself grateful he no longer drifts through life instead of actually living it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As there's been precious little smut for this pair of lovebirds, Shane and Ellie's story ends on a bit of a lemony note. :)

**September 5, 2010**

Merle’s words about reconciling his family linger with Shane, but figuring out a way to go about the conversation that needs to happen is harder than it seems. Rick is still taking lessons from Ellie, along with Carl, but Lori’s still in her small, isolated world of chores with the women and children. She doesn’t deliberately avoid Shane, but what little conversation they’ve had has involved Carl, Merry, or Sadie. When she needs something that would require a discussion with a group leader, she goes to Daryl or Jacqui.

Rick isn’t ignoring Shane, not exactly. He’s moved from his isolated seat at meals to sitting with Shane, Ellie, and whoever else joins them beyond the Dixon brothers, sitting at the far end of the table away from Shane. But he’s not particularly chatty, either, unless Carl or Daryl draws him into a conversation. Shane is starting to think he’ll have to just grab each of them by an arm and drag them off when Mother Nature gives him a slight assist.

Well, Mother Nature and a sly, assertive, fed-up with their avoidance tactics woman…

The thunderstorm rolls in with all the fury to be expected in the lingering heat they have even here on the coast. Everyone scurries for cover, with most ending up in the dining hall, where indoor chores such as mending combine with games being brought out for entertainment. Ellie sets a board game down in front of Shane, but as soon as he nods in agreement, she pushes Rick to the chair across from him.

It’s the closest they’ve been in over a month, and Shane can’t help but smile. Rick returns the expression, and their distraction is when Ellie disappears.

Rick clears his throat. “I think we’re about a step ahead of being locked in a closet somewhere together until she thinks we’re talking again.”

That makes Shane laugh, because he’s right. Ellie’s tolerance for the lack of communication is definitely at its end, because she’s headed back this way, and this time, she’s steering Lori by both shoulders. Eying the table for a moment, she snags a chair from the length and sticks it at the end, placing Lori evenly between them.

“Sort your shit out now, or I’ll lock you all in the old prison casement until you do.” Then she’s gone, going to settle at a table with Glenn, Carl, Miranda, and Beth. Rain doesn’t seem to exclude impromptu medical lessons, apparently.

“Is she always this bossy?” Rick asks, glancing over at Ellie. He’s smiling though, so Shane just chuckles.

“Not really. I think that’s special to you, mostly.”

Rick looks a little startled when he looks back at Shane, but he nods before turning to Lori.

The brunette shrugs. “What Shane said.” Fiddling with the Scrabble box, Lori opens it. “Are we actually playing?”

“Would be nice, I guess.” Shane thinks having something to do with their hands is a great idea, and Scrabble definitely requires some finesse. For all Lori’s complaints about Rick not communicating enough, the man’s a damn genius at word games like this.

Setting up the game feels familiar, although in the old world, Carl would be the fourth, a kid bound and determined to keep up with the adults he’s playing the game with. From the notepad and stubby pencil in the box, Carl has been playing, although it looks like more with people his own age than adults these days. That’s a good thing for the boy, Shane thinks, the strong bonds he’s forming with the other kids, both older and younger.

“How are you doing?” Rick asks, flicking his gaze toward Lori’s disappearing waistline. She’d been wearing oversized t-shirts until the past week or so. Maggie brought back what looked like the entire contents of a maternity shop, and now instead of borrowed men’s shirts, Lori’s slim figure is clad in pretty tops meant to accent the round curve in front.

“No more morning sickness, thank God,” Lori mutters, her hand going to her belly like every pregnant woman Shane’s ever seen when they start discussing the baby and pregnancy. “I was starting to think it would last the whole pregnancy.”

Considering she’s sixteen weeks pregnant, Shane understands that. He lets Rick take the lead, since indirectly, he’s up-to-date on the pregnancy’s progress via Ellie. Whether or not she does the same for Rick at Lori’s behest, Shane’s never asked, but it wouldn’t surprise him if she does.

“And all the rest? Blood pressure and all? That’s good?” Rick’s voice has a note of fear in it, and Shane thinks of the medical studying he’s been doing. How much of it is about pregnancy? Knowing Rick, probably more than most people would expect.

“Everything is right where Ellie and Hershel want it to be, but they’re keeping a close eye on things.” He’s seen the little battery powered blood pressure machine Lori keeps in a messenger bag, with her taking measurements at seemingly random times throughout the day.

Rick closes his eyes for a minute. When he looks back at Lori, all that Shane can see is earnest sincerity. “I’m glad to hear that.” He swallows hard, clearing his throat and looking between them with something resembling shyness before nudging his first tiles out on the game board. “I’m looking forward to being an uncle again.”

The ‘again’ makes Shane smile almost as much as the ‘uncle’ acknowledgement. Seeing Rick developing a relationship with Merry and Sadie like the one Shane has with Carl has been one of the best things Shane can imagine. It gave him hope for this conversation to go exactly this way. 

Lori’s eyes glitter with tears, but she nods, blinking them away. “You’ll have to remember all the things Shane let Carl get away with that drove you crazy.”

Rick laughs, something warm and genuine. “I hadn’t thought of that yet.”

“I’m suddenly grateful that’s a much smaller list of possibilities, now,” Shane quips, laying out his tiles.

“I’ll just have to get creative, brother.” Rick smirks at him, but there’s affection in the look they exchange, and ‘brother’ is said with all the fondness it ever held. Shane feels something tight and constricted unfurl at last. Knowing Rick was likely to forgive what happened and eventually understand is so very damn different from the reality.

“I feel the need to lure Ellie to my side,” Lori mutters, narrowing her eyes as she looks between them. Her revenge is to clear her entire rack by laying out all her tiles. She manages to land a triple word score, with a damn Z in the midst.

“Jesus,” Rick mutters, reaching for the stubby pencil to write down the score. “She’s taking advantage of us being distracted.”

“You’re being beaten by a woman with pregnancy brain fog, boys,” Lori teases, and when they all laugh, things shift just enough sideways that it’s like the old days. Before Rick was shot, when the Grimes’ marriage was withering away, but the need for family meant times like this, banter around a game board or a deck of cards, with and without Carl.

When Shane looks at Lori, she smiles back at him. It’s a reminder of how easy it was to confuse how much he cares for her, honestly loves her, with being in love with her. Rick’s watching them, and there’s no hurt or hostility there, just the same content look the man’s always had when seeing the two most important adults in his life get along.

Their family is going to end up a weird one by anyone’s standards, but it’s still intact at the most important levels. That’s all that counts in a world gone crazy like theirs.

The thunderstorm ends after two hours, but it isn’t surprising that most linger in the dining hall, aside from a group that goes out to see that no trees unrooted to land on anything important. Shane ventures out with those folks, taking advantage of the horses housed down at the visitor center like they usually do for patrolling the island. 

Maggie falls in next to him as they trail behind Glenn and Daryl, riding head enough to be out of earshot. “I kind of feel bad for the guy, you know,” she remarks to Shane.

“Which one, and why?” Shane draws his attention back from assessing debris floating in the river. Although the island hasn’t taken much damage, something did upriver, because they’ve got some pretty good sized trees trying to head out to sea. 

“Glenn. His crush on Daryl couldn’t be more obvious if he printed it on his forehead.”

That makes Shane study the two ahead. Daryl’s mostly looking at the surroundings, at home in the saddle better than any of their quartet than Maggie. But he’s glancing back at Glenn often enough to show he’s not ignoring the younger man’s chatter. The younger Dixon brother will never be talkative in the way his relatives are, something Shane always wonders just a little about, but no one can ever say he’s not attentive.

Glenn, on the other hand, definitely seems like every time Daryl looks his way is a ray of sunshine on his day. Broad grins and animated movements, which ought to spook his horse, but thankfully Hershel put the young Korean on an elderly mare that is such a placid personality even a walker probably wouldn’t startle her. 

“Ah, hell, I wonder if Daryl’s aware of it?” he wonders. He can’t tell, not from this angle, since Daryl tends to be subtle in his body language. “Gotta ask Ellie.”

“Oh, don’t make a bit deal of it. Glenn knows it’s hopeless, and he’ll just be embarrassed,” Maggie admonishes.

Shane looks at her again and smirks. “Hopeless because Daryl wouldn’t be interested in Glenn specifically or men in general?”

The young woman’s eyes narrow. “You know something I don’t.”

“I know that Daryl’s never dated a woman in his life.” Shane figures that’s not sharing too much. Daryl’s sexuality is no secret in his family, once Shane actually paid attention. But Daryl doesn’t share about his widower status, so that much, he’ll leave to the other man to tell when he’s ready.

“Oh. Seriously?” Surprise laced with mischief colors Maggie’s voice, and Shane just laughs.

“Seriously. Ask Ellie. And probably before you get up to any mischief, so you know what will fly and what won’t.” 

“I’ll do that,” Maggie drawls, and Shane almost feels sorry for Daryl, since he suspects Ellie will be all for matchmaking her uncle with someone she likes as much as she does Glenn.

He spends the remainder of the patrol circuit observing the pair of men more than the actual island, a task made easy by the fact that they’ve got a few limbs down, but nothing rough. Everything’s in place for the upcoming trip to see if Hershel’s cattle survived months left to fend for themselves to be transported to their new home in nice, tidy island pastures. 

The biggest shift caused by the Scrabble game played while they waited for the storm to pass comes at supper time. Instead of her seat in the corner, surrounded by ladies, Lori brings her food to the table where Shane and Rick are seated. Her smile is hesitant as she takes the empty seat between Rick and Merle, across from Sadie.

Rick greets her, smile friendly and inviting, and the rest of the table follows. By the time the meal’s over, Lori’s somehow caught up in a discussion with Merle, Rick’s still convincing Carl that the green beans on his plate are edible, and Shane’s just watching them all, smiling. Both his families are just blending together like he hadn’t dared imagine when Rick made his miraculous return from the dead.

It’s still on his mind, making him feel a level of contentment he’s never experienced, when Ellie breezes into their room post-shower with surprisingly empty arms. Sitting up from where he’s lounging on the bed with a book, he looks toward the door. “Where’s Merry?”

“Staying the night with Merle.” Ellie replies. She drops her damp towels on the quilt rack turned towel rack in the room, turning to smile at him. “Since she’s been sleeping through the night for a week straight, he decided it was time she stayed with Grandpa for the night.”

Merle has his own quarters now, even though many of the single men still bunk in the old military prison. Shane thinks they find it amusing, being behind bars that once housed Civil War soldiers. With Merle’s history, no one expected him to find it amusing at all, and no one protested when he got one of the earlier casements for his living quarters and left his tent behind. Under different circumstances, Shane thinks Daryl would bunk with him, but currently, the other Dixon is still sharing a tent with Rick while casement remodeling progresses.

Their own quarters are so cozily adapted now that only the plexiglass foyer area really gives away that they haven’t lived here for years. Ellie’s original idea to keep the museum style foyer was a good one, but instead of covering the windows with towels, now there are tidy curtains hung up. Carol’s made curtains for all of the living quarters, one by one, customizing them to the inhabitants. The older woman’s been so busy sewing that she’s got her own work room now, complete with some electricity to power the sewing machine that makes her work go faster.

In addition to Merry’s crib and changing table, they’ve got a two-seater sofa, a four-seater table with chairs, more storage than they really need so far, and the rocking chair he prioritized early for Ellie. Even the walls are gaining decorations, with the plain Civil War era walls covered by bright cloth to mimic tapestries in Merry’s area. It’s their home now, not just a place to sleep in reasonable privacy.

This is the first night they’ve not had their tiny roommate in her crib across the room, and the significance of that isn’t lost on Shane. From Ellie’s smile, it isn’t on her, either. She doesn’t go to her side of the bed, instead coming to pluck his book away and joining him in the bed by sitting astride his thighs. 

Leaning in for a kiss, she draws Shane into one of those hazy and happy makeout sessions they haven’t had as much time for lately. Before Merry started her sleep-through-the-night phase, there had been one that involved waking every two hours, miserable and fussy, and only the baby sleeping with them got anyone any rest. Her return to her own crib has kept them a little anxious about disturbing her.

Running his hands up under her tank top, Shane finds the clasp of Ellie’s bra, releasing her from its confines. She reaches down to shimmy out of the tank top and bra both, arching into his touch as he cups both breasts and runs his thumbs across silky skin. He’s glad she lost the shyness about them quickly, because honestly, he’s more than happy to deal with a little extra cleanup to get to see all of her laid bare. 

His touch makes her wriggle forward, moving from his thighs to being precisely astride where he would love her to be, if they weren’t both still clothed. But she’s having fun with it, so he enjoys the teasing, especially once she gets his shirt off and leans in to kiss along his throat. Tiny nibbles along his pulse point, a tease that she’ll leave a mark, although she never does. He groans, reaching to cup the round firmness of her bottom through the running shorts she put on after her shower, sliding them up so he encounters… nothing under them.

“Goddamn, Ellie,” he groans, snaking his fingers around to tease her when he finds she’s soaked and ready for him. 

Arching into him, Ellie leaves his neck be. Lamplight flickers across her pale, freckled skin, and he leans in to trace a small pattern of freckles under her collarbone. She whimpers under the combined attention of the kisses and his fingers stroking the small nub he seeks under her shorts. With time to spare and no baby to risk waking, he whispers against her skin, “Let me hear you.”

It’s not that Ellie’s silent when they make love, but there’s a restraint there, just like there is with him. He’s always been loud, a talker to the point that women teased him for it, and often physical in a way that borders roughness. He punctuates the request with sliding fingers inside her warmth, leaving his thumb to tease along her clit.

Ellie responds, crying out his name in a way that tells him she has been being careful on volume. Her hips work with him, letting him bring her to a shuddering climax astride his lap with nothing more than fingers and his own continued, half-profane encouragement of her reactions. When he flips her around, tugging away her shorts and his, she doesn’t hesitate to reach for the headboard and bracing against it as she spreads her knees wide.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes. One part of him wants to taste her, when she’s on display for him, skin flushed even as she pants through small aftershocks of pleasure. But a more insistent part of him is leading right now, and he buries himself inside her with none of their typical slow joining.

“Oh, God, yes. Shane!” Ellie responds to his intensity on a level that tells him he’s maybe been being too careful with her. It’s definitely more than his stamina is up for, this new physicality between them, finally unleashing them both, and he’s almost embarrassed at how fast he’s spilling inside her, legs cramping from the force of it.

She whines, this needy sound that makes him want to rouse even as he knows he’s not that young anymore. Reaching around her waist, he pulls her back to rest on his thighs, ignoring the muscle cramps and small spasms he’s still having. Working his fingers against her clitoris, he feels her riding against him even as he softens. She throws an arm around his neck, twisting to kiss him feverishly, a little bit of teeth nipping at his lip even as she finally arches. 

They end up tangled on the bed, arms and legs entwined, even as Ellie keeps stealing small kisses, giggling softly. “We are definitely repeating that,” she murmurs against his lips.

Shane caresses her hip, seeing the early bloom of where his fingertips bruised her pale skin. Ellie senses his focus there, reaching down to pet his hand. “We are doing that again.” It’s not a soft, teasing request, but more of a seductive one.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replies. If she’s content with it, he sure as hell will be. 

Ellie’s smile is too bright for her sleepy demeanor. “Love you.”

Kissing her is a leisurely experience now, half sleepy and content that he keeps planning a future with her. “Love you, too.”

For too many years, he’s been content to let his life drift, lost in occasional bursts of hedonism and being on the fringes of Rick’s family. Now he’s built his own life, one where the Grimeses are still an important part, but the center point is shifted to himself, Ellie, and the girls. The lazy affability he lived his entire life died when the world ended in pain and violence, but now? He knows he’ll always fight to keep Ellie at his side, entrusted with his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, dear readers, this is the final chapter of Shane and Ellie's story, although we'll be seeing updates in the future sequels, of course. 
> 
> Daryl and Glenn's story will backtrack in time a bit, as they deal with Rick's issues after the confrontation with Ellie, before moving forward to encounter the meddling of well intentioned ladies. Next time around for this series: _Antiquity of the Soul_ \- Glenn never considers that masculine firefighter redneck Daryl might be anything other than a straight widower, thinking his crush is hopeless and unrequited, until the day he learns that "Rowe" isn't short for Rose... but Roland.


End file.
